Death of a Red Sweater
Sorry to disturb you, or if I cause dismay.
There is something I must tell you that has bothered me for days.
My son likes wearing sweaters, even on a sunny day.
Maybe it’s that his autism, makes him feel that way.
I leave him in his private room, I let him do his thing.
He likes to sing and draw a lot but sweaters are his thing.
He wears, I wash and mend them. They almost are alive.
I think he even names them. Today I just washed Clive.
I go into his bedroom, through boyish pong and sweat sock fumes.
I pick up all his laundry, in his teenage funky room.
One day I came to vacuum, to try to clean his rug.
What’s all this crazy red stuff? Is it growing or just fluff?
On my hands and needs I grind, to suck up the awful stuff.
Could it be that it’s magnetic, cause it really won’t come off.
Is it Clive or is it Danielle? No, I think that Danielle’s blue.
Do I need some newer glasses or what I’m seeing could be true.
Red balls of fluff and really tough, the carpet is soaked through.
I try and try to suck it up, but the hose it won’t go through.
I’m exhausted and I’m swearing, that sweater has to go.
How can I get just rid of it without letting him know.
Could I say it was a suicide, would he understand that train of thought,
Could I say “Here wear another. The one that I just bought”?
Now I know that he’s autistic, but also very smart.
How can I explain his sweater loss without breaking his heart.
I am an honest person, I cannot tell a lie.
And so I had to tell the truth,
That his red sweater died.
Followed by a quiet candle lit dinner and a memorial service. I will buy him a new red sweater tomorrow.
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