They always look so small in the doorway
As you soar away
But there’s nothing to make a man take his own plane
Like his own pain,
And there’s no pain like home.
Some asked me: “how could you leave”
And I said “it’s only footsteps”
Some said “what you need is a good nest,
You need to settle down”
I said “I’m not a bird,
And I’m not a dustcloud”
That’s me: bravado.
Feelings embargoed –
If you love me I will hate you,
If you come close I will irradiate you –
Funny how it goes;
World gives you the bruises,
Suddenly the mirror is where the brute is.
This is what life has taught –
Nice guys get treated like asphalt
That’s how I get taught,
Get nice, you get naught –
So it’s all “go, go, go,
Drop your seed,
Then go missing like a dyslexic’s apostrophes.
What do you mean, you miss her?
Man up! It’s only sex, man up!”
This is what we get taught.
So when someone gives me a child
To hold, to take into my arms’ folds,
I get taut.
She gave me my child to hold,
But I didn’t – best decision –
Being that, being Dad,
Has lost its pull:
You can’t handle something that soft
Unless your hands are cotton wool,
And these fists are not that.
She called me a fool,
And regretted it the second she did it
Since we knew that word was my escape fuel.
I said “I’ll see you later”
She wept “When?”
And in my thoughts I swore,
“Later. So much later” –
And they both looked so small in the doorway
As I soared away.