My parents were an unruly mob camped outside my door
Screaming for my blood, my life, and still more
Was not enough.
My parents burned me in effigy.
The handyman had told my parents the posters were evil.
He had to have searched the whole house to find my closed off room.
So my parents calmly ripped the walls off my room and burned 
Them,
Me,
In effigy.
My parents were a stonefaced man
A mask of hate, upraised hand
To ward off understanding, love, or just simple respect.
My parents burned me in effigy.
Gathered my costume of leather, jewelry, combats,
And made a bonfire,
Burning clothes
And thoughts
And identity
Called "me."
In effigy.

Years down the road they called me to tell me I was forgiven,
And I should return to a place only they called home.
"I'm sorry, you must have the wrong number."
I don't recall any parents.
I seem to have burned all my memories.

                                             S.D.  6/4/94