I remember
Your car pulled up and parked beside the sidewalk
I felt like life was worthy when your door opened
When you stepped out, like a foggy memory
You came inside, like old times
Old times doused in gold
I colored
I sat on the kitchen floor, Yosemite Sam, blankly staring back
From large paper
You sat there in the corner, like old times
Doused in gold, misty
Cowering behind fixed expressions, doused in inadequacy
And flurries of swiveling cigarette smoke
The children, my siblings
They laugh and listen, sitting around the kitchen table
Doused in inadequacy
Avoiding contact, with the visiting stranger
The visiting stranger they careen into memory
“He draws finger nails, now.” You exclaim
“Yes, yes, he’s very talented.” Your wife says
Like old times, you brought gifts
Yellow Tonka, large coloring book
Not sure, what to say…
I’m not remembering, any conversation

In a forced dream
One induced by empty bottles
You stood, knee high in water
Water, the vivacious color of lucid tranquility
Passionate water
Contorting to fulfill the needs of a sun made of rainbow liquid
You cast a line, feathery bait twanging with the jolt
Landing softly, lingering peacefully
Rippling fervent colors in the water
Rippling back to you
Wrapping around your rubber boots
You turn around, to see me
Confident
Like older times, in the schoolyard
A worn figure stands among the beautiful water and clustered wilderness and
says,
“Hello, son.”
You said hello.
I eased my sweat then
I can fall deep into my fears
You beautiful, man
I can fall deep into my fears
I used to dislike you
You, the mystery, the infinite possibility
But I now, see, the hindering fear that your life was
Sleeping in your office, living, at your office
Stacks of paper, stacks of debt
Stacks of years
Stacks of statistics of burdens that weigh heavy on your heart
A beautiful life back home
Much too beautiful
I see your face, and it haunts me
I see your face, the day you swallowed the key
The key to the cuffs that swallowed your ankle
They swallowed your ankle and connected to your desk
Your sad, stagnate, desk
Your desk, your escape
My fleeting talent, my escape
I see you lying on the couch, of your office
Your escape, your (home)
On the couch, blue, conformed, angry souls
Angry souls creep slowly up your peripheral
Up your peripheral as you stare at the ceiling
Pockmarked with dots you count
Angry conformed souls consume your peripheral
And commune, both sides, meeting themselves at the top
Can’t see the ceiling no longer
Curving, you think, like the ceiling of the church I cried in
Of course, I am in your thoughts
The angry souls meet at the top, curving in to meet each other
Like the top of a church, like your (coffin)
Then, then you think of the older times
The older times of childhood
You think of the dog, that reached up to your neck
You giggled like life
Exuberance flowing like a river of gold
Your memories, are also, doused in gold, father
And your memories are of life lived young
The creased skin surrounding your eyes begin to close
Like the bridge, lowers again, over the golden river of memory, of
exuberance
Like a lowered bridge, your wrinkles around your eyes close
Letting love begin
Letting eternity cross

I see your partner, with crouching posture, slimey hair
With slimey hair, I see him open the door
He opens the door to your office, next morning
The telephone rings like a neglected baby
“TOM, YA GONNA ANSWER THE PHONE?!” he yells
He maybe yells again
I see him kick through a pile of empty liquor bottles
He kicks through glass bottles, to reach you
He shakes your arm, pokes your back, says, “Tom”
You don’t wake up
Like, old times.

I remember, that old time, on that night
Raphael had just, figured out, how to beat the pizza monsters
And Splinter, well I don’t remember, he was in trouble
And the T.V. began to snow a frenzied static
I stared on and on, the turtles fought in an ice storm
My left foot, small and fragile, fell asleep, and I itched it
Then the doorbell rang, people, siblings, mother, ordered
Ordered to commune in the living room, where the man would tell the news
I watched static, and heard the words as I stared at the man
His demeanor was that of static, I could see from here
From there, from here, from my mothers embrace
I heard the words that you had died, they sounded like static
And I fear you, father

I remember, in the car
“This is where you’re father is. You can come here whenever you want.
Those flags on the ground, those are all the graves of army men.”
“So dad is in there.”
“Yes, but but not really, he is in Heaven.”
“So, those are soldiers, would you find bullets and grenades in there.”
“Yes, I believe you would.”
I remember looking, at the lime green field, bright with protruding flags
I looked down at the floor, at my torn sneakers, hanging off the seat
Couldn’t…Quite…Touch, the floor.
“Do you want to go for a closer look?”
“……………….No, this is fine.”
“O.K.”

I remember you in your coffin at the wake
Your face was bright

I, remember, the old time my mother brought me along
My mother brought me along on an errand
She had to clean out your office
Your papers, were cluttered maniacally
The carpet was gray, bland
My yellow Dick Tracy car, skooted across with a buzzing sound
And got lost, under your desk

I remember the time, I drank a bottle in my room
Need a new hiding spot, I thought
I remember lifting up a pile of clothes
The new hiding spot, and finding there
Finding there, 3 empty bottles
And a picture, of me, of a baby
Wearing red and white stripes, mouth agape with wonder
Eyes, full of oblivion, liquefied with life’s passion
I see through my eyes, my youthful mother
Half hidden behind the camera
Glowing
Not yet hardened, by an apathetic son
I fear you, father
And I confide in you.
You beautiful, man

 
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