I dreamed I was deprived of food by my own father.
(Who’d think it, or would a-thunk it?)
What I needed most came from my mother.
But my dream had no mother
in it. I was a teen spelunker;
my own father
accompanied me into the caverns.
I always drove his junker
Plymouth Cricket, even though I druther
drive my mother’s Toyota Corolla.
That’s how I acquired my bunker
mentality—deprived by my own father
of my full gastric potential,
I had to hunker
down into my rather
feckless posture as the other
of Orion the Hunter.
Deprived of food by my own father.
What I needed most flowed from my mother.
