Monday, August 17, 2009

Poem by Uncle Blake

Family reunion 2004; photo by Richard Koepsell.

By Blake (Paul B. Sullivan) 8/09

I am the savage, I suppose.
For I cannot get past the
deed, the passionate, brilliant
man we were deprived of.

It's what? The something or
other stage, I'm told, but
there is something about
vengeance that seems,
well, not just right but
vital, needed, essential even.

The world has far too few
Peter Haskells; far too many
of his dubious killer.

And we have the touted
"Justice System" that
parses fleas on elephants
to find the outcome sought.

With Mom, early 80s, in Buffalo; photo by Heather Haley.

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