This is a very old piece of mine that was modeled on and was a reaction to a poem by a reasonably well-known author. Unfortunately, when I wrote it, I didn’t notate whose poem it was modeled after, so if anyone sees a vague (or not so vague) similarity in form and phrasing between this poem and one which they are familiar with, please send me an e-mail at email@example.com, as I would very much like to go back and read that poem again, and if necessary include an attribution with this poem.
My brother thinks with half a brain
that hinders his progress as he moves.
And I was the one who wanted
a firm strong leader for a brother.
I wanted him to be bright and capture
attention with his quickness and his wit.
I wanted him to be the best of all
the kids he goes to school
with, the leader, one who breaks
new ground with his inventive mind. Instead
he’s this rickety little kid who makes mindless
patterns on his paper when he’s confused.
He’s a stumbler who can’t do anything
right, or so the teachers say. It hurts me to see
him so abnormal so lopsided with glasses
crooked on his face. Sometimes I weep
knowing he is mine, but then he turns
and looks at me with eyes full of life.
He comes over and tugs
my shirt and I play a game
with him in the grass and his imperfections