Didi stutters.
I knew her
when she didn’t.
I know
who made her stutter,
made her shy.
I know what he did.
I didn’t do
what I should have done
when I found out,
so I guess
I helped
to start her stuttering too.
I guess I wasn’t a man then,
or maybe I was.
Maybe I
still am not one, or maybe
I still am. Maybe
“being a man”
means
brooding about
being a man,
instead of just
being a man
differently.
Don’t judge me
by Didi, stuttering
and shy —
it’s hard to be a man.
That’s what i said, it’s hard
to be a man these days
when men are so not good at
being men —
I said it, yeah.
You heard me —
did I stutter?

December 1st, 2012 at 4:21 am
Fathers, uncles… there were so many for many of us… Not all of us stutter and many had nobody to tell. If she was able to tell you, you gave her so much!
December 1st, 2012 at 4:28 am
Thanks…but again, not autobiographical.
Also — she never told the speaker anything, at least not in my conception of the back story.