the stepfather

he was a coupon clipper.
a light switch
miser. he set
a limit on the hot
water usage
in the shower,
turning it to cold
when the clock
ran out.
if a light was left
on he broke it with
a broom handle
leaving the glass
for you to step on.
everything was generic
from toothpaste
to bread,
to peanut butter
and red sauce.
if the trash didn't go
out, it was
in your brother's bed,
rotting garbage
between the sheets
and pillows.
no phone call was without
him on the other end.
forty years of slavery,
your mother suffered
under this second husband.
he wasn't evil, but
close to it, and now
he lives alone, alone
except for the mice he catches,
the neighbors of a different
color he despises.
caged in his own self
made world, no friends,
no children,
waiting for judgment
under the one 25 watt
bulb he keeps lit in his
bedroom. waiting
for judgment
which in many ways
has already come.