Posted in eavesdrop, Poetry

Grillmaster Kyle

I’ve always been better at giving, but I guess
there’s only so much you can impart on someone.

No matter how much good
you think you’re spreading
in the world, there’s always going to be those
who come along and skew your perception of things.

You kind of have to take it with a grain of salt
and move forward if you want to keep relationships intact.

Take Kyle for instance,
he’s basically a beast.

In a family full of vegans, he’s the one
that goes out and changes his name to
“Grillmaster”
and opens up a butcher shop.

Can you imagine that? Just blood and guts
all day and then
he has the audacity to come home and offer to buy me a beer.
Like I don’t know what he’s getting
up to downtown, during the week.

Maybe
he takes me for the fool—broccoli salads
and non-dairy cheese—I reckon he looks down
on me for not having the fortitude to kill an animal.

But like I said, you know, that whole thing
about giving. I guess that’s why
I’ll always set a place at the dinner table for him…

he is my son after all.

-01.15.18

 

Author:

Trying to find the right words.

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