Norman Allan
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I don't remember joy
when I was a boy
but didn't the days run on

they trashed him as a baby
the crazies
alcoholic mother demeaning father,
a sadistic elder brother
embedded needles in his feet
when the family finished whooping him
the world whipped him too
and wasn't Mother Nature unkind
in public and private ways
pain ago-go

the the then the last years
Dee started to stutter

a clever man
as smart a soul as ever I've known
except unable to take care for himself
ah but that's not a poem
that's just a moan
and didn't the days run on

everywhere in my house
there are things Dee did for me
or gave me
so much I always miss a bunch
if I give the tour

so many people that Darrell touched
were touched quite deeply

I remember
after his last haul back from the coast
Buck raving waving
a giant umbrella
in the storming park
yelling at the sky
begging to die

later he complained
"my social worker
doesn't understand
the difference
between wanting to die
and suicide"

now he's gone
and I've tears for a friend
ah didn't the days run
















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