FATHER'S DAY

here is to my two dead
children the ones these
women had aborted
because they figured
out fucking a poet who
ain't worth a fuck and
poor ain't like making
$80.00 a night in tips at
The Red Onion because
your artist ass is sublime
in a stupid scanty uniform
to these jerk-off suits or
that your ex-husband has
set you up because you
already have kids with him
so you can now write your
weak poems while fucking
half The Catalyst every
friday night but women
decide who lives and dies
anyway especially when
they have you pinned riding
that half a foot of destiny
yet I do remember one made
me pawn my saxophone
on the way to the clinic while
the other was wearing this
huge pad over her cunt when
I brought her home and she
had me fuck her in the ass still
hot and nasty through the
tears because a poet is king