I skipped out on Father's Day,

It's not a big deal,

Seeing that I'm fatherless-


One two one eight-

You'd think I'd send a postcard but I'm already late.

Later than a gallon of milk other fathers would make 15 years to take.


One eleven,

The gin that seeps through my mouth feels like heaven,

A cheer to the lonesomes,

Two for the stressed out,

And three for the textbook history of how we fell out.

This isn't a poem, nor a serenade either.

I'd rather vomit,

And put your life on an audit.


Like father like son,

You gave up on me-

And now your life's all bleek.


As you wish I wouldn't have done the same