Everyone seems to have a story
of the time they accidentally
caught their parents doing IT:
the dirty deed, the two backed beast.
Well, you get the idea: Sex.
Hell, I may be the only person
in the country who never, as a kid,
witnessed his parents going at it,
and either froze, not quite sure
what he was seeing, except
that he knew in his guts, he shouldn’t
be seeing it. Or he had a dim idea,
and backed out of their room.
Or maybe his parents sensed an alien
presence, a witness, and lurched apart
like teenagers caught by her father.
Anyway, that never happened to me,
thank God, but I almost feel
as if I’ve missed a crucial rite of passage,
though I finally did figure out
why my dad paid Jeff and me to sit through
double features on Saturday afternoons,
or why he’d rise early some Sunday mornings,
shave, then close their bedroom door again.
At least I had the sense never
to turn the doorknob to ask them
some dumb-ass question that forever
would’ve hung stuttering from my lips.
©2021 Robert Cooperman All rights reserved.
Robert Cooperman’s latest collection is THE GHOSTS AND GONES OF TROY (Aldrich Press), which posits what if Odysseus came home at last, but with a horrific case of what we’d call PTSD.