My restless, fitful cousin
Punched a black patient in the hospital.
At Thanksgiving dinner he offered advice he’d gotten
From a prostitute the week before:
“The best part of sex is right after the orgasm.”
One eye had been poked out by a paper clip
when he was in grammar school.
He took a bad trip on Spring Break in Florida
and angel dust took him to schizophrenia.
His mother woke up one night and saw him
Standing over her holding a knife.
He stands in the living room now, big,
One-eyed, scary. Everyone’s left the room
Except my father and I, asking him
what else he had learned.