NaPoWriMo Poem #20

Four Questions

Will I find the answer I seek
on a roll of microfilm
in the back of a cabinet
at the local library
or perhaps written
on the back of a photograph
buried in a box
in the attic?

Can I trust research
conducted by a stranger
posted on the internet
without any sources cited
any more or less
than the uncited research
of a 19th century distant kin
published in a book?

Why do some cousins
respond excitedly to my letters
while others are silent?
Is it me, my cousins, or the letters?

How many roads must a man pursue
before a brick wall comes down?
I’d ask Bob Dylan,
but I know the answer he’ll give me,
and I want something more.

0 thoughts on “NaPoWriMo Poem #20

  1. DL Emerick

    The Best Family Histories

    Digging up the surly dead?
    Crypts should be encrypted.
    Skeletons are in bare closets,
    waiting to be out-sorcelled.

    Out liars are infringements,
    exceptionally remembered
    for the legends they spun
    on edges of distributions.

    A galaxy clusters its suns,
    little Sol spins on the edge,
    cast off and out of a vortex,
    lying outside great masses.

    Earth herself is no giantess,
    most mediocre planet in size,
    impure as it is, mold-covered,
    virus-infected, as what life is.

    A mother knows she birthed,
    a child came out, maybe you,
    and some man became father,
    maybe yours, maybe not so.

    Ancestors lie with each other,
    they make us; then they die;
    and we, in turn, lay each other,
    before lying down and dying.

    DNA’s truth shelters my lies,
    offspring of mutants that I am,
    those who came before me,
    all bowed down, knew me king.

    When dynasty rolls scrolls,
    when monster trolls stroll,
    when winds below blows,
    Fires shower ashes to ashes,
    dust to dust, I am; I must.

  2. DL Emerick

    dear John,

    You can replace the last line of 1st poem,
    personally take it as reading:
    “all bowed down, knew marquee-ing”,
    if you like to make a new mark on it.