Patricide Epistle
II.
The first time I had you killed
I made you a hero of the Vietnam War.
The third grade social studies textbook said
young foreign boys hid grenades
during corner games, seamstresses doubled
as spies. Why wouldn't you have died
on those streets, clutching my mother's
photo with your thumb pressed cold
against her belly, wishing you'd had a chance
to propose, hoping for a girl? But that war
ended before I was born. Next,
I had a drunk driver end you. Said I visited him
in prison to spit in his face. Forgave him
for a speech during health class. In eighth grade,
I made you die young of natural causes,
so I could teach a grieving classmate
the proper way to mourn.
Copyright Credit: Jonterri Gadson, "Patricide Epistle" from Blues Triumphant. Copyright © 2016 by Jonterri Gadson. Reprinted by permission of YesYes Books.