stream of consciousness

i was too young and didn't understand divorce...why we had to tear away from dad to houston far away from family and friends...strange rooming house and a smelly old landlord who lived in a large bedroom with a burner to warm his soup and a violin in the corner...my sister and me covering our heads up in horror those nights we hear our mother's pleas and sobs in the next room mistreated by the stranger moved in...he's not our new dad as she said...kindergarten's snacks and knaps and soon we off again to big d and another room to rent...now a mean old landlady made me eat gooey goulash dumped right out of the can into the pan as i sat alone at the table for hours in refusal...aware i'd finally lost innocence, standing on the sidewalk out front of the apartments, rubber indian spear in hand...she sure works a lot leaving us instead with others...but fridays we'd all drive down to the drive-in for beer and burgers, root beer for us kids in back...mother married again...this one is good, but he's not our dad...soon lined up at the fall-out shelter in the building basement to get a paper cup shot of sugared polio...keep us off crutches like the poster kids we see...have some fun at school, too--duck and cover from the play-like atom bomb just in case the windows blow in or blow out...raised up on t.v. and movie-reel unreality...heroes ride and fly in just in time to save the day...but shy i wanting some kind of affection or at least an introduction, as well as my father there...yet, i was too young and didn't understand divorce.