Of a sort...

He was born in March, the year Einstein hit his life speed,
And he played down by the creek, and climbed the nearest tree,
And his daddy threw him baseballs and worked under the car,
And his momma fixed his meals and asked him to take out the garbage.
But he ran through the woods and dreamed of clouds to take him away,
And horses in the pasture to lie next to and drink their smell.

He took a book and cigars and climbed the tree,
That smothered their front lawn,
He read of Che Guevara and asked his daddy for his gun,
And shot birds down by the dozen, and walked away and back home.

And he read and read and watched the water in the creek, and caught crawfish with white bread, and fought his pet chickens by the basement door.
He was mean to the little dog his daddy bought him when he was six.
The dog was meek and smart and lively and never bit, but stayed away from him when they were alone.
It loved his daddy, who was even meaner, who fed him from the table and hit him when he peed or wouldn’t eat, and every morning the little dog, named Dixie, laid shit on the kitchen floor and his daddy beat the dog and smeared his nose in the shit.
And he hated his daddy for doing that, and disliked himself even more, and waited to get away and hope to be someone else.

The snow fell on a dark morning after all night at the mill.
He came home and parked at the top of the hill.
His mother made coffee and they walked to the road and stood by the car.
He had a scarf on and long hair and she took a picture.
It was his favorite picture, smiling.

Not long after he lived in a small house with a woman he would marry.
Her friends from New York came to visit and took a picture of him.
They were drinking coffee. He leaned across the table, his chin in his hand.
He smiled and her girlfriend took the picture.

In Botswana they had a black cat. They went away to Zimbabwe and the landlord gave the cat away. They found this out when they got back. Some neighbors said she ate the cat. Other neighbors said she gave the cat away to be eaten. They got another cat and she had kittens and they all had deformed back legs, like frogs, splayed and unable to run. They kept one kitten. The mother cat disappeared and before he left Botswana for good he gave the cat away. He was sure it soon ended up dead.

As all things do.