Several Poems and Scattered Thoughts Thrown Together By the Force of a Powerful Migraine

Several Poems and Scattered Thoughts Thrown Together By the Force of a Powerful Migraine

At 5:08 on Friday morning
I’m finally able to shuffle
out of bed,
disconnected.
My brain feels liquified,
gelatin maybe.
I was attacked on Thursday
while thinking about my father,
the man who fathered me that is.
(not thinking so lofty at the time as God)
I was attacked while my anger
was white hot.
My mother told me
when I was five or so
that there exists a picture
from 1975 in the St.Petersburg Times
of her on a sidewalk in Florida
pushing me in a stroller.
Allegedly my dad,
or as she so bluntly put it
"the man I think was your dad"
is in the photo too.
If so this is my only evidence of the man’s
existence.
I sometimes wonder what his name was.
I’ve heard "Dan" breathed out
but that got jumbled with the two other men
who could have vied for the top spot -
spot on top.
What side of my brain,
my liquified brain
did he work on?
According to my mother
"Dan" was married at the time of their affair
with eight children by his wife.
So despite where I am
I am still the baby of the family.
But I feel robbed by this man,
robbed of my siblings,
robbed of the things he was supposed to be to me.
I don’t know what parts I took from him,
but perhaps I could put myself together if I knew.
As it is I am a puzzle
with no box cover to see
what the finished project is supposed
to look like.
And I’ve always been terrible with puzzles.
Just ask my sister
who always told me
to keep the family secrets just that,
behind closed doors.
Her and I
we were wired differently,
and thus lived with no real connection
growing up.
I remember she bought me an action figure,
"Duke" from G.I. Joe.
That’s the only memory I have from my childhood
where I thought she loved me.
Ironically though
all of my coworkers call me "Fudgy" now,
though I despise chocolate.
(it gives me migraines, how funny indeed.)
Right now
my wife is sweet as can be.
In the dark she cannot
see the pronounced raccoon eyes
that I have.
The result of broken blood vessels
after two hours of vomitting yesterday.
I feel drugged,
my own brain working against me
and sensitive.
I’m asked at work
what medication I am on.
I have tried all of them
and none are effective,
period.
Not even close.
If people knew the best cure
(a shotgun shell right through the spot of the headache)
they’d have serious doubts about my future.
I assure you
I am stronger than that
as long
as I have
rest
for my liquified sensitive brain.