Saturday, June 18, 2011

My Father in the Sun.

Photo: August Sanders.

'Don't be such a fucking poof!
Be like me, Son,
Long in the tooth.

Why don't you go off
and bake a cake
with your Mum?'

He kneel's out of sight
continuing to cement the brick
wall he's building between us.


Jimmy said...

I liked this one. But keep in your head that all faithers love their sons. Regardless!

Jim Murdoch said...

This is very effective. It might have a broader appeal if you changed ‘poof’ to ‘woose’ or something like that but I know exactly where you’re coming from. My father was very much a man’s man and as much as I know he always loved me – Jimmy’s right there – I was also acutely aware that I was always a disappointment to him. This reminded me of a poem I wrote many years ago that also involves bricks:


      Dutifully I dial the number and ask for him.

      He answers and
      brick by brick we build a conversation.

      Progressively the pauses
      become more frequent
      and intense.

      Finally we replace our receivers,
      each regretting not having said
      what he had no words to say.

      Somehow I love him
      yet cannot reach him.

      8 June 1979