The Youngest: A Poem For Larry—By PJ
Larry’s Arms, watercolor by Kelly Eddington, 2018. Based on a reference photo by the marvelous Inchy. From “Coping Strategies For A Spoiled Fandom.”
The Youngest: A Poem For Larry
PJ DeGenaro
The Youngest
A poem for Larry Mullen Jr. on his birthday
The youngest brother was born
On the cusp of November
Under the whipping tail of Scorpius
In the dark of a waning gibbous moon
That forced a clarity to his vision
And made him alert to
Fakers, flatterers and flirts.
He brooked no bullshit.
It is said that being pushed
Out into the world
Into the month of the dead
Hardens off your soul
The way an indoor plant left outdoors
Must learn to survive a harsher climate.
Still, no one asks for pain.
No great equalizer, pain
Will reveal you for what you are:
Ranter and raver, re-teller,
Embellisher and engraver —
Or endurer in silence
Who survives the grind of bone
In rasping socket
By zipping up the lips.
The youngest brother is the silent type.
Every family needs one,
The child who holds himself slightly apart
But not too far away, observing,
Forgiving us our excesses,
Loving us anyway.