what kind of father could i be. even the musing
has me lighting another cigarette..

i wonder is my bachelor pad too tight
too smelly for a wife and babes to run amuck on me.
can i father up the gut to sing.
to mouse the monster.
to blue cross and metlife and double rsp.

i wonder would i wear my dear old dad like a grin.
drag his shoes behind me like a busted rowboat .
and would mom play a part in things.
aprons and cardamom.
would she bake in the back rooms of my skull.

and the young ones. the imps of this dream.
what would become of them.
down the road i mean.
wearing my sway like a birthmark.
trying to prove and twist and please.
looking to me for adulation. approbation. condemnation.
half expecting the kick to the head.