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:
FOR MY FATHER
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.
McGuire: A thin Glaswegian man, touch giddy in the head, sometimes poet of mangled form and dirty prose, sporadic drummer, drunk grammarian, waffler, painter using crayons, lover, hater, learner, teacher, pedestrian, provocateur, wanderer, confronter of shadows, irritating whine.
Produced a collection of poetry and short stories - Riddle With Errors - and is currently writing another for release in the coming year or more.
Contact - colmcguire AT hotmail DOT com
ALL WORK FEATURED ON THIS BLOG IS UNFINISHED.
2 comments:
I liked this one. But keep in your head that all faithers love their sons. Regardless!
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:
FOR MY FATHER
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
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