Kendall A. Bell - Poet, Curmudgeon.

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the garage door man's son

He can barely drive a nail
without hitting his finger
plumbing is like studying algebra:
impossible.

He is the middle son.
The only one who is not a carpenter.
He is the one who wasted his twenties
on trivial junk and created debt.
He never did figure out
what he wants to do with his life.

The walls in his house
are a statement that parallels his life:
unfinished.
His yard, a reflection of his accomplishments:
a sad, sick joke.

He is the garage door man's son.
The one who never followed in his footsteps.
The one who rebelled simply to be different.

His hands are not rough and cracked,
like his father's and brother's.
They do not hold the things they touch:
nails, wood, success, children.
They are empty.

 

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