I don’t have classic memories
I don’t think of fond ones first
I don’t think of joy, I think of hurt

The stale stench of beer,
I would run and hide,
I was forced to see you.
I was told to care
I wondered why you were never there

You called me delusional
I always thought you are full of bull…
You were always in your Sox pants
And I, grew a hatred for the team
And your blue pick up truck-blah…
Every time I see one I fear you are at the wheel
Another DUI perhaps?

As I drove past the Moose Lodge on my way home
I remember how everyone at the bar knew who I was
& How I was afraid of the man in the bunny suit
On Easter at the lodge
I feared you were behind the mask

Your tan skin

Dirty hands


Your shadowed mustache

Your eerie smile
All the reasons for my nightmares as a child

The court ordered pre-Christmas day
Taught everyone you were unfit
The way you refused to pay for anything

Don’t get me wrong
Not all of it was bad
You gave me one gift,
One gift in 17 years
Thank you “dad”
For on May 25th, 2009
I told you off
And you walked away
One.
Last.
Time.