Cursing was something as a kid
I naturally learned to do.
My father was a curser,
my mother, siblings, too.
All my aunts and uncles cursed,
every relative I knew
was a fucking first class curser
who cursed a streak of blue.
We pretty much cursed anything;
everything was fair game.
Whatever happened, or whatever might,
we all cursed all the same.
We cursed the banks, the butcher, baker,
even cursed the liquor store.
We cursed our rundown cars and houses
and the son of a bitch next door.
We cursed our jobs, our bastard boss,
cursed the cops, the shitty school,
cursed any law we came across
and cursed every rule.
We even cursed the parish church,
the priests and nuns, as well,
who told us we should never curse.
We cursed them to fucking hell.
We cursed all colors and all creeds,
cursed all races, too.
Cursed anyone and everyone,
cursed them through and through.
We cursed the goddamn dogs,
we cursed the goddamn cats,
we cursed every goddamn This
and every goddamn That.
We cursed mostly for being poor,
cursed what other people had,
resented their lucky fucking breaks
and cursed the ones we didn’t have.
But, in our hearts, we cursed ourselves
for the circumstances we were in
and cursed our own goddamn mistakes
for how things might have been.