.. call it a persona disorder

torstai 19. elokuuta 2010

Just like me

my boy wants to be a serial killer
he told with
a cold tune
himself

happy wide smile
on the little round cheeks

I glanced up
over the paper
at my boy
just about to read some
psychologist's interview about
childrearing

a serial killer?
yes pap, still smiling
well, what's not to like, I laughed
who am I to stop you, lil' man?

I leaned back and
reached for the drawer under the
coffee machine

I always thought you'd apply for some
acknowledged university and
become a highly educated professor

I grabbed the biggest knife this
house held

but I guess I can't live vicariously
so you do what you want to

I handed the knife over the
table right
under my boy's eyes

so can I have the honour to be your first victim
go ahead,
make my day
make the day for both
of us

and my boy began crying
cried as hell

what's the matter, son
you're a serial killer
it can never get personal

and he cried even harder
and then came my wife
heard the whole thing from the top
started screaming
louder and
louder
louder

recognized some words like
                      inhumane
           bastard
                                              asshole
                           sick 
    maniac
                                       prison
                 cops 
                          prison
                                              divorce

silence came like a dead end
beyond a hill

they were gone
I think I wasn't really there either

next to the knife was
a package of cereal my boy
was having for breakfast

an ad on the back
how cool cereal killer are you
collect 25 stickers from the inside bottom
and show us how much you just looove
the Sugarpup Strawberry Cereal

I just couldn't stop laughing

fuck the cats and fuck
their fucking cradle and
silverspoon in
       my ass

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