Jake's Flea Market

Here’s a bit of a rant as I left it in the 1990s, when I was younger and had things to say. I don’t know if it’s something I want to claim. I like the thought development; at the same time I regret having been so raw. I rebuilt the thing yesterday--- added a few images and a couple of nice lines, and reworked the rant part of the poem into a poetry of phrases. I still don’t know if it’s something I’m proud to claim.

BEFORE

to the face of the father
and the father’s father now
ten years dead
in the face of the father

and to all the generations of the fathers
gone faceless to their centuries and come again
as nameless expressions to the face of the father

i say your child is crying there are tears
streaming down your face there are tears
you don’t wanna look at your own pain there are tears
you don’t want anyone to know your pain there are tears
streaming down your face your child is crying
so you beat him you threaten
to give him something to cry about your child
is terrified there is terror
in your eyes there is terror
you don’t want to look at your own fear there is terror
you don’t want anyone to know your fear there is terror
in your eyes your child is terrified so you move your hand
sudden and he cringes and you laugh and your child
hates you there is hatred
in your face for you there is hatred
you don’t want to look at your own self loathing there is hatred
you don’t want anyone to know your self loathing there is hatred
in your face for you your child
hates you so you tell him
children have a duty to love their fathers and your child
is guilty there is guilt
in your eyes there is guilt
you don’t wanna look at your own remorse there is guilt
you don’t want anyone to know your remorse there is guilt
in your eyes your child is guilty

of closing his eyes and smiling
and blindly becoming
your face






AFTER

to the face of the father

and to the face of the father’s father now
ten years dead

and to all the generations of the fathers
with the dirt of faces slid from skulls
and names weathered off tombstones
and unspoken out of memory

i say your child   cries there are tears   stream down your face there are   tears you never bared     your pain there are   tears no one knew   your pain there are   tears stream down your face    your child cries   you beat him you threaten   to give him something to cry about your child   is terrified   there is terror   in the thousand years of the blue   in your eyes there is terror   you’ve never outbraved your fear   there is terror   no one knew what you were afraid of   there is terror in your eyes your child   is terrified so you move   your hand sudden and he cringes and you laugh   and your child hates   you there is hatred   in your face for you   there is hatred   you said you had no self loathing   there is hatred   no one knew you were the one you most hated   there is hatred   in your face for you your child   hates you   so you tell him   children have a duty to love their fathers   and your child   is guilty   there is guilt   in your eyes there is guilt   you distract yourself from   remorse with drinks and prayers   there is guilt   you never apologize   there is guilt   in your eyes your child   is guilty

he’s closed his eyes   and smiled
and blindly become   your face