Father’s big hand over my tiny hand
his voice coaxing pull hard, now! pull
and I’m frozen and frightened
a life’s on the line
his breath down my neck is the breath of a bull
and my arm is pushed down
with the sound of a scream
the lights flicker and brighten
as justices load is lightened
and gods electricity is proven to be
not what it at first seems

Selling those electric chairs
all wood and steel and wires
and now even from beyond the grave
he imposes his desires
on my will, even still, even still
he was the king of electricity
electricity that kills

I despised him and his business
would light my bedroom solely with candles
but to demonstrate how safe it was
he made me perform
forcing my hand down on the handle
I grew up, went to college, those years are a blur
but at night, late
I’d feel the weight
on my soul, of that eight year old turned murderer

Fathers little accomplice
he’s left it all to me, it’s mine
the factory, the contracts
are both my livelihood and crime
when the lawyer said I was the sole heir
you should have seen me perspire
even from beyond the grave
he imposes his desires
with his will, on my will, even still, even still
now I’m the king of electricity
electricity that kills

He’d take me along to every execution
kicking and screaming in the car
complain he was cursed with a sensitive son
who’d never get very far
his sales pitch was safety, that’s why he brought me
so fool proof he’d risk his own son
much faster then poison, more modern then hanging
not nearly as messy as guns

These days I stay in the front office
while electricians and carpenters work
and half our orders
are from S & M clubs
the other half from the state clerk
I’m trying hard not to think about it
as I sign each one of the orders
force my daydreams to block out
the screams from childhood
echoing through old prison corridors

He’s gotten his final revenge
full of his fatherly spite
and even though he’s dead and gone
I still haven’t the strength to fight
back at him, it’s his whim, I’m his whim
and my life is my guilt
just a pesk
the kings of electricity
living me and buried him
like father like son
I watch myself wilt
at his desk