One Tough Ape
Dear Dad:
Were we apes, you’d have been the ideal father.
I never starved
And I never froze
And your little monkey survived into apehood.
A job well done—were we apes.
But we’re more than just apes, dad.
We reason
And we feel
And were we apes, you’d have good reason
To try and beat these feelings out of me;
A pussy has no place in the wild.
What kind of alpha ape
Would raise a son who sucked at football?
But we’re more than just apes, dad.
We love
And we need love
And at meals I needed more sound
Than forks screeching against plates.
An outstretched arm would have stopped the cold
That always managed to penetrate four walls and a comforter:
Where were you to comfort me?
I liked to draw
And I could write
And you thought
That you could beat that pussy shit right out of me.
An artist has no place in the animal kingdom.
You wanted me to be one tough ape, dad.
So I drank
And I took drugs
And I looked for fights
And where I found none,
I cut myself instead.
If I couldn’t be quarterback, I could still be the king of the fucking jungle,
Ready to rip out the throat of any ape
Who thought of themselves as something more.
You managed to raise one hell of an ape, dad.
But we’re more than just apes, dad.
Aren’t we?