Elegy to a Conflicting Familial Bond
My memories of you are convoluted, For your demeanour was unsure of affection or violence, Which in my youth I could not understand.
Compote, A nectar of sacred carmine, Sunlight’ s kismet; reflecting in the jug, Humility in its effulgence. Bowls of beetroot soup, Summer veranda comforted by conscientious cattails, Catching frogs with you in the tall grass. And in memories of this, I loved.
Thus, When alcohol, With shrieks of chauvinistic cruelty, Tremulous emotions overwhelmed, I’ d not known this miscreant that shares my blood. Last year, you were dressed up as Santa Claus, And now, berating and shouting, Vehement saliva.
Your slippers remain, I hesitate in wearing them, Fearful of inheriting your wrath.
Jakub Taylor
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