WITHOUT SUPPER

The night Max wore his wolf suit
and made mischief
of one kind
and another
was the night
you phoned the police
like a bluff
that was called out
in the loud fashion
of a domestic dispute.
You told her
'I'll eat you up'
and she couldn't stop yelling
fading between pleas
for her sanity,
how she was just one mom,
she didn't know what to do with you
and threats
for your life
I watched you
sent away
without eating anything,
and I didn't see you
for a week.
And that very night,
in our room,
a forest grew
and grew
and grew
but you weren't there
so you couldn't see the vines
that were choking
our window
pulling at the wall sockets
you couldn't hear
the waves
crashing through
our chain-link fence
and against the vinyl paneling
we had called home.
I came back every day after school
to stare out across that ocean
tumbling by
through night
and day
and in and out of weeks
and almost over a year
and I could have left
there was a dock
there was your private boat
there were a lot of miles I could've put
between me and her.
but godammit
I wanted someone holding it all together.
And I sure hope they were great
as they roared their terrible roars
and gnashed their terrible teeth
and rolled their terrible eyes
and showed their terrible claws for you
I hope your wild things
stroked your dirty, matted
ego.
I hope your week
as a ward of the state
left you feeling justified.
And I don't know
what else
would've have
changed that situation,
and I'm not calling you
wrong
but I'm still calling you
selfish
and still wish you could
have just eaten up your
pride along with that
ridiculous suit
and just smiled and nodded at her
like I could.
When you came back,
we had supper.
But it was not
still hot.