With My Daddy In The Attic

With my daddy in the attic
With my daddy in the attic
That is where
My being wants to bed
With the mattress ticking showing
And the tattered pillowslip
And the pine unpainted rafters overhead

With the door closed on my mama
And my sibling competition
And my Shirley Temple doll
That truly cries
And my essay on religion
With the pasted paper star
Proving tangibly
I’d won second prize

With my daddy in the attic
With my daddy in the attic
That is where my dark attraction lies
With his madness on the nightstand
Placed beside his loaded gun
In the terrifying nearness of his eyes

With no window-spying neighbors
And no husbands in the future
To intrude upon our attic
Past the stair
Where we’ll live on peanut butter
Spread across assorted crackers
And he’ll play his clarinet when I despair

With my daddy in the attic
With my daddy in the attic
Past the stair
Where we’ll live on peanut butter
Spread across assorted crackers
And he’ll play his clarinet when I despair

With my daddy in the attic
With my daddy in the attic
Past the stair