when i was 4
i followed you around
my old man young
at 25 raging away
at red blooded expectation
it was on those
pavements where i walked
in my buster browns
rock hard Bazooka Joe
in my jaws learning
to crush the pain
even at 4 i
disagreed with the politics
of calling you daddy
3 hours after you
smacked my mommy in
her mouth of hate
4 was an age
of converging lives desperate
for an out away
from each other though
my post infant mind
inherently knew that this
trip would not be
the last to take
place in yours and
hers non sequitur marriage