The Floor

      I can remember being seven years old Having goldfish that circled around in a bowl I would watch the forest burn and listen to the wind blow I remember the table, the drapes, and the window The dark brown everything, decoration, styling Most of all, I can remember my mother smiling Worn out and faded, my hometown was scrappy More than anything, she wanted us to be happy Little to eat and back and forth to the hospital She was right, it's better to be happy if possible But the old man was under attack and was weak And continued to beat us several times a week He lived like a king even though we were piss poor I tried to be strong and careful what I wished for My outside ached, my inside stung The long leather belt had replaced his tongue Not knowing how to run or how to hit the brakes A white picket fence was built around a pit of snakes Both a wonder and frightening, the thunder and lightning These were the sounds and sights of a thousand fights My mother, the poor fish, staging eternal Charades and parades for the raging inferno Wanting to be happy, beaten all the while Asking me always, why don't you ever smile And she'd show me how to do it, mother and wife It was the saddest smile I ever saw in my life It hurt worse than death but for her sake I tried And one day all of those goldfish died Hurricane, forest fire, out of control Eyes open, floating on the water in the bowl And when my father came home, he walked through the door And threw those fish to the cat on the kitchen floor And the wind died too and I was still a child And the three of us watched as my mother smiled