A Coming of Rage
Thomas Merton Brightman
(All rights reserved)

Father shot my pet beagle
Teddy
Father shot my pet rooster
Rudy

The message not lost on me
Done with that kid?
Take him out and shoot him
Dad was done with me before birth

Father liked his rage
Momentarily freed him of his cage
Father seemed to enjoy my terror
Whilst deflecting his own error

Everyone appeared a threat to father
Yet, I was the one against whom he railed
I was between he and mother
Other threats by comparison paled

Father put himself in his cage
Not me
No matter I'm to blame
Never he

Shrunk from the tension
Feared father's power and rage
Father tormented me
Became my cage

Tired of waiting for the whipping
Poked sticks into his cage
Too exhausting to wait for his choosing
Riling him to get it over became sage

Could I survive to tell the tale?
Come that fateful day...
Larger and desperate, thirteen and hale
Someone was about to pay

Pitched battle inevitably came to be
Took a knife from the dinner table
Held my ground even when I couldn't see
Back pressed to the kitchen wall

He veers away just as fate is to disclose
Whose eyes will forever close
Surviving one's Father
A coming of rage