A Psychopath to His Father

[rowens]

A Psychopath to His Father



Dad, 
you have been dealt your last hand,

all your bluffs of
love 
and anger
and hate
are inked stains on wooden cards adored by plastic;

that the players around the table
have no sympathy,
would not have been a tell for you,
and wasn't in similar stakes.


The money that was your soul was all you wanted; what had we?
A man that can no longer play brings nothing to the table.

It's not that nobody loves you,
at this point,
try as we may, 

none of us can afford to.

[Mark A Becker]

Hi rowens,
This is one of the best pieces of yours I've ever read.
I'm not shittin ya, either.
... Mark

[rowens]

I'm glad that you think that.

But what does that say about you?


And what does it say about me, for that matter?


The poem called Politics by William Butler Yeats is probably the poem that should be read at my funeral.


But, of course, it won't be, because I'm never going to die.
And second, the poems and songs that will be part of my legacy will be chosen by other people...

After all, if I have a funeral, it's not about me.


Like Robert Johnson said: You can bury my body by the highway side, I dont care where you bury me when I'm dead and gone

[busker]

I don’t like it.
There’s too much cliched whinging going on about stereotypes of deadbeat dads who only put food on the table while the children wanted unicorns farting rainbows
Maybe that’s not the intention here, but it comes across as being too middle class first world navel gazing

---

My point is, whatever the merits of the message, the way it’s being told is hackneyed

---

The “psychopath” in the tittle doesn’t convince me that thr narrator in unreliable
It’s one more loose end

[rowens]

The poem is based on all the movies I've seen the last few years around rich family remembers gathering to hear the father's will read and then murders starting.
The other recent set of movies I've seen is all the dinner party going wrong ones.

The psychopath is showing that he sees all relationships as a game, and now that the father has folded, he's of no more use to him.