Craig Stormont- A Poem

RATTLES AND CHAINS

I lived by a code for a long time

giving my middle finger to the grid

it took me far away to many places

convinced that people and their ways are hell

my blood brother Walter Ross broke through

before they cracked his skull for kicks

a street drunk that most would not care to look at

we shared a half gallon of vodka one snowy evening in Boston

intent on freezing to death together but failing

that was another lifetime

before colleges and teaching and those involved in that racket

where I met a girl I dreamed of all my life

and the code faded

she became nothing more than a lie and insult

posing her way to the top of some imaginary garden filled with pretense and shit

a son was born of it

he is all that matters now

I sometimes wake from nightmares of her

and the deceitful evil opportunist she is

bent on cutting the chain of her from my memory

while worrying for my stolen son

the ghost of long dead Walter rattles invitation in my brain

he was love - she just pain

both are gone – I remain

with proof that people can be worse than any hell imaginable