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growing three boys
by Charlie Morganparasites of the millenia crowd the orb,
two words Mama didn't know: millenia and orb.
she spun lives for three boys while Daddy
was away; chicago-a load of meat; idaho, potatos.
two-a-day highschool practice left me wrinkled
in the sweat of the larger-than-life, seventh grade.
the tenth grade was led by my brother; BMOC; me:
a wanna be, following in his jock strap, cleats.
impress the Coach, hit hard, run fast, hit hard again!
beat the Coach to the end-zone, make the starting team.
and me sneaking a cigarette after practice, to be cool.
as my shield of innoence was replaced by more testosterone.
just enough to find interest in the women, yet also
enough to stop someone's dream mid-teens of college.
what was it? where was the money? why even think it?
a God-fearing woman, MeMama, suggested i go and
like Frost says, "that's made all the difference."
08/05/2008 Posted on 08/05/2008
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Genevieve Sturrock on 08/05/08 at 01:10 PM ah, charlie, you made me cry. God bless your Mom...i only hope i have as much positive influence over me own little ones. |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 08/05/08 at 09:13 PM I love these snippets of what made you, this wonderful man who writes for us in love. |
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