Little Cherub
The boy seems to
know far too much.
He’s young but
seems less than innocent,
an old soul I wouldn’t
have trusted
even in some
earlier incarnation.
When I see him
at the public pool,
doing things no
youngster should do,
it makes me
crave a strong drink.
Beware both baby
and bathwater;
beware
everything you can possibly think.
Whiskey hits
gullet with fire,
reminding me of
all that I love
and desire to
protect, now and always,
to never forget.
In church, he
looks heavenly
in white robes, little
angel
incapable of
evil, dreaming only good.
Altar boy
altered,
knowing open
hearts make easy targets.
His secrets are
troubling,
what occurs
behind the giggling.
His private hell
is burning
beside lessons
he’s not learning.
When fire catches
into flame
your children
will be safe again,
when all I loved
before today
catches wind and
melts away.
Gary Glauber is a widely published poet,
fiction writer, teacher, and former music journalist. He champions the underdog,
and strives to survive modern life’s absurdities. He has two collections, Small Consolations (Aldrich Press) and Worth the Candle (Five Oaks Press), and
a chapbook, Memory Marries Desire (Finishing
Line Press). A new chapbook of surreal work,
The Covalence of Equanimity, a winner
of the 2019 James Tate International Poetry Prize, is now available from SurVision
Books.
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