Wednesday, June 30, 2010


i loved him
he took me for haircuts
sat me down on bar stools
life was a coke...and a bag-of-chips
a bowling machine
waitresses with too much makeup
we watched baseball games...
i never crossed him
he always demanded respect
he smelled of whiskey
and old cigarette smoke
he gambled all the time
i got used to my mother arguing with him...
her tears, and regrets...
men sometimes came looking for him
sometimes we ate steak...
other times we ate noodles
he was a lousy provider
a bad example
but he never lied to me
he gave me good advice
he got sick
but kept on working
he died young
but he looked old
i remember his behavior
at the end...
he started giving things away
he sat without legs
in a wheel chair
he never complained
he kept his sense of humor
now, he drank coffee...
instead of whiskey
he still smoked his cherished cigarettes
he always read the sports section...
and continued to play the ponies
he never said he loved me
he didn't have to...
i knew he did.

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