Addicted To The Infernal Realms Poem by Charles Chaim Wax

His father hated him and
Martin
an only child. Eighteen he was
the only time I met his old man when he strangled
Martin
with a garden hose.
As we chatted in the living room
his father came in
put an arm lock on
dragged him to the lawn
twisted the tube around his neck and yanked
twenty seconds later he
stuffed the brass spout
into Martin’s mouth
and turned the water on full force.
Thirty seconds later he pulled
the hose out of his mouth
and began watering
the lawn and Martin
as Martin
lay sprawled on the grass
gasping for air.
He didn’t want to do away
with his only son.
Torture was the game.
Laughing his old man said,
You’re all wet.