An autobiographic poem |
Come closer, and I will tell you a tale about the sons of Jarrell, Four sons had he with a bride so charming and teeming with life. Each of the sons were different, yet of the same blood Though their looks varied, the third son had a husky build. The first son was called after the father’s eldest brother who died in the war And a beach was named after that ensign near the shore where their parents had lived. Now he, the third of a third son, used to love to swim, for fun In the backyard pool, and lift weights after school, for years of caddying Had given him shoulders, and the nickname ‘Rocko’ from Danny Brown, The caddy master, who did perceive Rocko’s whiffled head as a rock. When Rocko flexed he took on the name ‘The Hulk’, and his next older bother was the 'Spider'. In high school Rocko wore glasses, some remarked he looked like Clark Kent with them on. Talking on 'love' to a teacher it was commented, “Its like you come from a different planet, As though you’re light years ahead of us,” and his teammates once looked into his eyes Saying, “You’re high on life ‘cause we know you don’t do drugs.” Some years later in the army a specialist named Reeves shouted out down a crowded hall “Yirrell, the son of Jarrell.” And it had all caught up with him, could it be, was he the one and, Then he found himself in ward seventeen, the psyche ward, where all super heroes end up. Now contemplate this rich thought, 'could this happen to you,' as it did to me, for I am the Yirrell. |