They made him keep his dog
penned in the far-back yard,
distant enough to muffle the barks.

I thought if he stopped reading comics
and watching cartoons, it would save
him, unwanted child,
his mother always watchful
of what he’d done wrong.  No
smiles, not praise for this boy.

He ran into walls for 58 years–

teen marriage and a second
marriage to a shrew echoing his spurning
mother, grapefruit-size brain tumor,
terminal lung cancer
though he never smoked–

until the funeral home driver
carred him out
in his favorite Superman tee shirt.