Redemption, Years in the Making

My name is Paul Prince, and my mother is an addict.

                              I cradled her Addictions              and a trafficked woman  

from Ukraine

my grandmother took her in                       our home     the sanctuary 

shelter 

haven of lost causes 

                                         

Trafficked woman and I married       had three kids              and

loads of piss and vinegar bickering  

     I’m an all-day sucker

My wife is a liar      her words bloom like barbs under my skin

                                                                    we share a welted shirt

                                                                         family heirloom

I think 

                       she thinks        she uses for fun           Coney Island without the crowd

I think           

                      there are devils    who camp in her heart           

         who

                                              followed     her      from      Ukraine

                                                       another family heirloom  

she talks with Them in our sleep

I think

             I use because my mother uses                 demons live here too

On good days               I pretended we weren't Addicts        those days were minutes

On incarcerated days        I pretended I was a Victim of circumstance

                                                                                       those days      a YEAR

I want to be a Father              not a Victim

                                                       

My grandmother is hearth    roof    a hug     a full belly        a FULL HEART

a place   my kids    can live     grow up      with         just              fairies and imps

the Welted shirt         I want to burn         the Coney Island          to bury

             My liar gutted the sanctuary and shelter 

                                took the kids

                                                  disappeared     

                                       wrapped in the Welted shirt  

I think

            I must be

            determined enough

to bring    us                 beyond                the circumstance 

                                                           that fools its victims

My grandmother is a fountain of MERCY

I know

                she won't            live               forever

she needs them home             

we need them home

                                        here is clemency 

                           yards            and             yards              of        it

                  

I have a full-time job now with my uncle’s help

I'm working             on a Backbone                  my grandmother won't live forever

Inside me                           I feel a turnip seed      

                                   of hope       and     dreams

                                       HERE     a fallow field                  

                                       let hope plant its seed

                                       let hope plant its seed

                               grandmother              fountain of MERCY

                                                rain on me

                                                rain on me

                                                row by row   

                                    this life   this rancor   my dirt      

                                   turn to Green   the color of kindness                      

I think

             my kids will bury the shirt under the fountain 

             the devils           can turn                           to      birds

and     the Ukraine woman will plot    her own story

                                                          I mine

                                           My name is Paul Prince, and I am not my mother.