I was five years old.
So tell me why, in this memory
iām in underwear out-on-the front porch
and its freezing cold outside
Why? why, Iād love to.
tho first knowā it wasnāt freezing,
āya it was coldā
but thatās the point when
you are playin
Pretend Polar Bear Club;
it doesnāt matter if you believe me
you probably donāt
cuz every recollectionās
dimming once itās 40 years old
and frankly it donāt matter
if youāre tangled up in trauma
cuz your past canāt ever be revised
youāll only ever make it longer
Iām just looking for the reason
why a preschooler is gonna know about the polar bear club
likeā Iām not upset nor madā just want the reason; why
well fuckā
ā¦the reason why is DAD
ānothingās foreverā (āDid jāask me toā)
cleaning off a forgotten plate
tried not to spill... look iām sorry
nothing better than those noodles with cheese
in my own realm iām like blah blah bla āawesome meā
Donāt hold us over railings!
Bro and i are concerned that we wonāt survive
āaw fuck it just one more time
So iāve decided that iām staying up all nightā
just as long as you make certain we donāt die
and the same applies to you
because thereās not another person in the whole world
who would introduce
his children to
the back to
the future
trilogy
Yeah what I said is what I mean
Dad started us off with Back to the Future 3.
And sure, he showed us the second movie next, but if youāve seen them you know how bonkers that is⦠Another Marty in the same timeline, explainedābut never understood in the realm of storytelling.
seen them at 7 years old? How about 5?
So never the less, my brother and I were massively confused.
But lookāI get itāIām not trying to sound ungrateful
Iād do anything to go back to one of those Saturday nights
when mom was elsewhere
and dad let us sleep downstairs on the foldout
couch
watching movies
playing nintendo
just enjoying
What the fuck happened?
why is every thing
so different from what
my conditioning
had me constantly believing?
I was so fooledā¦
But that is neither here nor is it there
There are so many mysteries of which I more so. care.
So howās it possible
someone who never knew his dad
could fit so fucking perfectly in shoes he never had
the chance to wear as poster-child of his broken home, ān in front the mirror pose to declare itād be different once heād grown.
And why am I the one with such a perfect dad?
When my fatherās more deserving of the ubbringing I had?
Is this making any sense to you? Because it never does to me.
I guess iām just not thinking fourth dimensionally.