Wednesday, January 11, 2012

“How I Became Verbal Sadistic”

   If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is what I ate and what TV shows I watched, how they plopped me in front of Bozo and filled my bottle with Pepsi, how I suckled ragged the corners of my pillows and bit off the noses of my Teddy bears, how those teeth marks I left in Grandma’s kitchen chair sent my father into a seizure, how he beat me, then, and how I wouldn’t shit or speak to him for weeks, how my father flew for a commercial airline and could see me only once a week, and how I always managed to have diarrhea on the nights he took me out, how he stopped bringing home his girlfriends, and all the sitters that I had, and how Aunt Gloria saw after us for a while at the beginning, and why I bit her, and how she said I was possessed and got this Catholic priest to talk to me, and how he said I was too headstrong to be possessed and started all that commotion about my welfare when I asked if he knew of any nuns who were wet-nursing, and how they put me away and I was forced to make confession and damn nearly gagged on my Communion wafer.
   —It’s a sign! Auntie said.
   How I showed up one morning at Newark Airport and nearly got my father fired, how he took me up to Boston where he had an apartment and said we were gonna start fresh, how the doctors said I was sick, and how they gave me insulin, and how the blonde nurse sat with me and showed me where with the syringe, and how I never bit again but learned to sublimate the urge by saying fuck!

No comments:

Post a Comment