family secrets

a slow amber light flashed dimly

one night on my bedroom wall

reminding me of an uneaten soup

from a mysterious cookbook

in a forest of forgotten aroma 

from a marriage, shell-shocked,  

and a first born’s grievous defects 

that lingered in black and white 

through infernos of resentment
burning down our house

with personal aversions to reality

wealthy pretension

of jewels from a thief

passed off as heirlooms
like artificial intelligence
for minors in caves

of lithium battery ash  

for rocket ships to stardom

on the shoulders of silent giants

as truth trickled into the night soil 
and i went back to sleep

August 10, 2017