This Boy

Kenny, aka Vincent Moore

Kenny, aka Vincent Moore

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Attended school angry and bitter why? because you see he was a lonely boy of foretold restlessness and anger from parents who fought and drank and smoked cigarettes

He remembers being sent off to the store to get Players and Sweet Cap cigarettes so they could watch their addictions going up in smoke while drinking their bottle of Rum and waiting to argue over both their pasts and see who would attack the other first with challenging words spewed forth in disgusting anger

School was just a release for This boy to tick off the teachers even though they told him he was the best printer and writer in their class while at the same time pulling Kleenex from their box on the desk and crying while the principle strapped him in front of the class with a barbers horse haired leather strap

You see he wanted to use this boy as an example for unruly boys and what he dished out should a boy step out of line and talk back to teachers and others in authority at school

This boy remembered the teacher Ms Marshall with the silky see through blouse and sexy black bra showing off the shape of her padded hidden breasts and her horn rimmed black glasses that matched them while we boys went home to have wet dreams of Ms Marshall and her black bra

Mr. Savage This boys music teacher with grey hair and black colored dye streaks blending through his hair and his touchy clutching sweaty hands on the shoulders of  pretty girls while breathing his garlic breath over them in his own mind he was a predator in disguise of a music teacher

This boy fought a lot at school and stood for what was right and defended other boys who were called names by bullies of muscled arms or so they thought they had and blood ran freely at school yard brawls and teeth were broken and shins were kicked and open cuts bandaged by waiting mothers with back-handed blows to our heads and sent to bed without supper that awaited us for breakfast in the morning sun

This boy remembers well the school basement store where used clothing was given to us poor kids who had no money from parents out of work or to drunk to cloth us so the basement store gave us shoes shirts and pants to wear to class yet never laughed at for fear of This boys temper brought on the night before by fighting drunken parents with disgust they honed This boy with bitterness and resentment thus his difficulty at school

If Hell on earth was school this boy hated hell and fought his way through studies and low achieving seemed his destiny and playing hooky every chance he could the pool halls drew him to their velvet and rack em up was heard and shouted by us all

This boy remembers well the frustrations of youth the never-ending fighting and yelling in his home the love of his mother the hatred he had for her live in boyfriends and sickness of abuse the drunken squalor and cigarette butt filled ash trays everywhere and yelling and screams of mother being beaten while defenseless children watched in horror

So you see This boy grew up around anger and blood and gut wrenching nights that turned into awful days at school of wondering what he was doing there trying to learn from teachers he disobeyed with wrath of spawning pain from demons  ruthlessness brought on by sick men living like vultures waiting to feed on the innocence of children.

So This boy lived the brutality of youth given him by the sperm of his father who brought him into this violent world and left This boy to fend for himself among the dying souls in streets of the Point the gutter of violent poets long gone who left their mark like Bukowski’s barflies who hung out down at the Old Pall Mall tavern and stale ale swigged from Hell

This Boy survived many didn’t

 

© Copyright Vincent Moore 2013. All Rights Reserved.


Comments

This Boy — 1 Comment

  1. I am very honored to have received these kinds words from a fellow writer Suzette Walker “And the amazing thing about all this is the child survived. It was not easy and there were times when he took one step forward and two steps back. But, he survived. His strong will propelled him through life, sometimes too fast and reckless, and sometimes he was full of despair, but there were also times of peace and joy. Yes, that child who was a good writer, came out later in life and he wrote poems of great beauty and if great reality. And his writings amazed and inspired others. And today, we are so grateful to know this man and his poems and writings”.

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