for George,
my tiny neighbor of long ago

Tiny baby George
Giant smile, small cleft on lip
Easily mended.

Little George is here
His mom, my friend, sells Avon,
He strips bare, frolics.

Choking toddler George
I scoop candy from his throat
A damn lemon drop!

Running toddler George
Crossing paths with a big truck
George, wounded,survives.

Teen-age George the hunk,
Raising some hell, then matures,
Grows up to his heart.

Grown-up blonde-haired George
A wife and two nice children
They’re the best of him.

One small fall from grace
His wife goes home to parents
Leaving George alone.

Her folks so Christian,
So rigid, meddling, pious,
Unthinking and cruel.

Born-again of course
They pull strings for wife and kids.
Tell her what to do.

She files for divorce,
She keeps his babies from him
He gives up and dies.

Our lives without George
Are diminished and painful
For the name of God.

m I born again?
I could not live so cruelly,
Once is fine for me.

Julianne Gallegos is an artist who uses sculpture and verse to comment on absurdities in life. She opposes proselytizing in all its guises. Beneath a placid veneer lies a playful Nana, fan of CSI and 24, fatuous Chihuahua owner, and a superb Ebay sniper.
[ skprd444@adelphia.net ]