"I Met Ozzy Osbourne Last Night" - Kayla Sargeson



    I know I should lock the door, but

    I’m not afraid,

    not since I saw my stepdad

    choke my sister one Christmas

    (I really couldn’t breathe, she said later,

    I thought I was going to die)

    while our mother, drunk, watched.

    Sixteen, I knew nothing about

    how love and need can meet

    and turn a mother into a dust

    drunk by eight pm,

    no exceptions.

    I open my apartment door to find

    Ozzy sitting on the floor of my four-room apartment

    holding a ball of yarn over the head

    of my cat.

    I named my cat Ozzy after him

    because I wish we were blood,

    that our family trees shared

    acid tripping, bat biting, pot smoking

    ancestors. And I’m spinning

    from the beer I drank with my friend Louis

    before I discovered in my apartment

    the Prince of Fucking Darkness,

    the man who sang me to sleep over my teenage

    Wal-Mart stereo while my mom and stepdad

    fucked across the hall.

Kayla Sargeson is the featured reader tonight at Word of Mouth, 8 pm upstairs at The Globe.

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