all want to cringe;
it was clear she no longer knew her son,
or who he was, or who he became,
before his suicide.
She had kicked him out of the house
when he was still a teenager;
he struggled to make ends meet,
briefly living in a garage,
and sleeping in a parked car.
Of course, she didn’t mention any
of this during her speech,
she didn’t tell the people in
attendance the truth;
that she was a cold mother,
who had also used his obituary as
an opportunity to promote her
career as Sneezy the fucking clown.
So here it is; she was a detached,
disengaged cunt, but her son’s name
was Derick, and he was one of the
nicest guys I’ve ever known.
About David Boski:
David Boski lives in Toronto, his poems have appeared in: Under The Bleachers, Down in the Dirt, Horror Sleaze Trash, Synchronized Chaos, Winamop, Outlaw Poetry, Spadina Literary Review, and elsewhere. His forthcoming chapbook "Perhaps You're A Cunt?" will be released by Analog Submission Press soon. Holy&intoxicated Publications will be releasing his second chapbook "Fist Fighting and Fornication" in the summer months.