Here I am, at five and ten,
No more a boy, not quite of men,
Now a chick without a hen
Lost amidst a wolfish den.
Alone, abandoned, and confused,
Seeking comfort that be loosed
To aid my trust at once abused
And yield the love I’ve been refused.
Each plodding day within my school
I feel as though I play the fool
Who, deep across the kiddie pool,
Drowns from mommy’s cruel misrule.
Up to my frantic wading
Sails Miss Mercia Kaeding –
Philosophy teacher waiting
For me to take her baiting.
A kind word far extended
A lonely pain soon mended
Though I try see her offended,
My anger her compassion ended.
Forsaken by one she adored,
I soon found myself stored
In apartment cleaning abhorred
As roommate reliant on her board.
Nine and twenty, healthy skin,
Affable, diligent, urban bumpkin
Sleeping near beer and violin –
In laughable sorrow, we are akin.
I simply drink, she gets drunk –
I wear cologne, she smells of skunk –
I listen to classical, she only to punk –
I eat fresh fish, her diet is junk.
She’ll confide in me her darkest wish,
Assist me with the daily dish,
Teach me how to sing Swedish,
Convince me she is stylish.
I keep silent, she laughs rather loud –
I have no self-esteem, she bids me be proud –
I tend to get bored, she tends to be wowed –
My feelings fall flat, hers oddly endowed.
Two of a kind, despite disparity,
Relieved by each other’s gentle company
With weeks and months drowned in sake
I believe that I can be truly happy.
When darkness falls, sinking night,
She clings to me and holds me tight
As I abate the urge to fight
Her velvet breasts’ lulling delight.
Then her smile does melt away
As tears slip down in icy spray
Her lip quick-quiver and betray
The heart within that ever sway.
Seeking to amend amiss,
My judgment I do now remiss
Leaning in for warming kiss
Flush of flesh in fleeting bliss.
She cradles me within her arms,
Glittering gaze always disarms;
Powerless under her feminine charms
I courageously challenge social alarms.
But, then, one day, our home bereft
Of whom my heart is lost in theft
From sad fates that so solidly weft
Have snapped in twain with she who left.
Mercia, love, my soul desire,
All I clutched dear to admire –
How could I believe you would tire
While kindly kindling my funeral pyre?
I do not care what you think of we,
You hardened hearts of society
Who before would shrug us off brusquely
Because dead eyes we cared not see.
My teacher taught me trust no one
Because, on Earth and under Sun,
Humans love ‘til they ache to run
And leave you with your soul undone.
Morning's Early Dark 