Little did you know
when you followed me east
and covered the carpeted distance
between us at the airport in the paisley
patterned brown wool dress your hair
longer then when last I saw you,
your toe would catch,
you would stumble,
almost fall.
Later you would be chased
in the park, almost caught,
by a man pouncing
from behind a bush
seeking to punish you
for your loveliness
but you looked once back
over your shoulder
and simply out ran him.
You would love my mother
who deserved it but
who would die before
seeing our sons.
You would meet my father
who you wouldn't love as
he deserved that
being a drunk on his very last leg
also soon to die
who came to our wedding with
a gun in his pocket
for fear of the niggers,
for whom jap wop mick spick were
funkandwagnel's fine, and
who had to split hairs
so our kids shouldn't be
mud-people.
You would live with me in a place
so cold a tree, upended by ice weight,
toppled, crushing a car outside
our window on your first night,
so hot you cooked topless,
so poor we bought food by credit card
for which we couldn't pay the vig
while I
Followed in my father's footsteps,
pursued personal annihilation,
drunkenness as an artistic
alternative to production,
fought internal terrorists, was
often insensient, always impaired,
limped with the lame,
but you
Stuck, dug in with awesome tenacity,
battled me for your self in
skirmishes waged in a foreign tongue,
dealt, birthed two babies and
shamed me sober.
I could be smug about
making it to the light,
boot-strap chin-ups,
personal resurections
but I remember and,
sweet jesus, what
would have happened
to me if not for
you?
