My father sat there in the kitchen drinking coffee,
reading the newspaper, or working on his poetry
eight to ten hours on his days off from work.
Even longer after his forced early retirement.
Busting anyone's chops that foolishly walked
by him to listen to his new poem, and give him
their honest opinion of it.
I did my best to avoid him from when I was
old enough to figure it out.
You didn't have to go through the kitchen
to get to the bathroom,
if you use the one in the basement.
Wednesday, March 31, 2021