Hey there, 6 foot 2,
You’re the legend I
Never really knew,
Just tales and arms
That wrapped me up
In dreams disarmed.
At least I think so,
Childhood being all
Those decades ago.
No matter still, as
Memory lays bare
A wild man’s stare
And disheveled hair
From too much work,
Sleepless nightmare,
Slaving for the jerk
Who paid pennies
For our family of 7
And zero amenities
Like air, health, ice
Or places to sit and
Eat, but for the mice
And rats and broken
Windows in summer
Through winter then
All over again you
Worked and worked
Like honey bees do
Except for the sweet,
Endless years toiling
Making their mark on
Sharp minds unfolding
Like cards in a deck
The ones spread before
Your outstretched neck
As you glance at a play
Grimace in your mouth
And hunch in your sway.
Time, cards, pills, and
Withering you rue it
All, taking for granted
Though you may intuit
That all you worked
For in shaving off days
Return in unseen perqs
Of watching the world
Change as you leave it
For survivors to unfurl
And laugh at the effort
Knowing it’s fruitless.
I watch you watching
Me with that wry smile
Sneering, laugh, a poke
A jab, a joke just to rile
Me, anyone who’ll hear
And play the game of
Conversations unclear,
Skills you never master
Unbothered to learn its
Nuanced turns faster.
But here you are 82
And not worse for
The wear as you do
Your days like song
On repeat every hour
Seeking to belong
Longing for your arm
Missed as she’s gone
And none to replace
The world you built
Sweat leaving no trace
Of life fretted in years.
Though sad and sagged,
You have plenty of life
To give, receive, begin
Again if you so wish,
Children, grandchildren
Happy that you exist
As am I who love you
With much heart, laughs
anger and admiration too.
Happy Day, Father, to you,
Dance the potato chip dip
Crazy, ape-shit, Abie-poo.
In the gaze of the other 