Dedicated to my Father: Circa 1970
Me and Dad were at
Knott’s Berry Farm and
he couldn’t wait to share
his favorite attractions with me;
the torch of his enthusiasm
burned even hotter
than the fiery ashes
of his cigarettes;
but I was like a wet match,
soaking wet,
and Dad had no chance,
no chance at all --
my whole world was
Disneyland;
hot words of anger
gathered in his mouth
like fierce storm winds,
but then he hesitated,
thought pensively for a moment,
and, finally, swallowed them;
with a smile of selfless surrender,
he took my hand in his own
and, together, we walked
towards the parking lot.