The earliest memory I have
Is not a happy one
I was four
Somewhere in Ohio
My sisters were
Eight and ten
We three sat watching
Our parents arguing and fighting
It got violent
I started anger management counseling
When I was six because
A kid tried to help me put away a puzzle
I told him no, but he kept helping
I picked up a chair and hit him
I had to learn
At an early age
Not to let my temper control me
Now it takes a lot to make me angry
From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.
James Pack 