Dad by L.S. Morgan

Like a maniac, no correction, a manic encircled the
Blonde boy, so unlike me: I stood he fell and groveled
Like a dog; which I am not, but the monster was
Our father, unlike the prayer, this isn’t heaven.
It’s not like hell but colder, colder than hell one
Might say
And I do!
Our father the monster, keeper of all our hell our
Prison the zoo