Dad ignored my shadow but saw my likeness, just before he patted me on the head, just before he slapped me on the face, a Mum-ay looked aw-ay to clean something, so caught a train to a station with a difficult pronunciation.
Met an aunt for love and hope, and as the only one in the moment, smiled at the twelve by seven roomy with a TV aerial taped to the wall.
Aunty gave me an uncle to see, this man and builder on the glory of Dad as a thief and wage stealer, just before cousin Vinnie followed in his father’s footsteps to steal small thimbles of change.
That night became bird-day, soles in my shoes were thin on the ground, had walked to a Salvation Army Hotel for a plate of hot deliverance and electro-shock therapy, all aiding the digestion of hate for blood.
But other relatives later, so other troubles piled up, and on, money supply and emotional scars tumbled and clamped down on a handsome youth.
Genealogy, up-turning souls from yesterday’s times, those pirates, and Peoples unable to love me, with a mission for contact, that DNA strapped-on suicide bomb.