Coffee, on the Back Porch, Spring 2024
On the other side of the fence, the Toben kid
walks by, singing Sittin' on The Dock of the Bay.
I wonder where a teenage boy learns an old song
like this. And I remember car rides with my father,
windows up and the AC blasting along with Skynyrd
on the 8-track player. Cigarette smoke filled the car
as I held my breath for however long the drive to Zayre
or Albertsons took. My father singing and smoking,
the happiest man I'd ever known, until he died at 46.A pair of cardinals fly in and out of the camelia.
Through the window, I see Julie at the stove, smiling
and singing. It occurs to me, not for the first time,
that she will outlive me. I'm okay with this.
She has lived better, healthier, than me. Plus,
both her parents lived into their eighties. She catches
me watching her and mouths, What? and I mouth
I love you and she laughs as if I've said something funny.
A Florida Childhood
Hurricanes and palm trees.
The camphor tree
in the front yard of that
piss yellow house on 32nd street.
Ham steak, powdered mashed potatoes, and corn for dinner again.
The Lord's Prayer framed in the dining room.
Black Mongoose BMX.
Dennis and I circled the block,
past Donna Bird's house,
past Mr. Earl's and his barking Dobermans,
past the drug-dealing Knutson's.We pedaled, dizzy with the heat,
the blood pumping through our legs,
our thin, wet shirts sticking to our flesh.
We'd usually end up in my above-the-ground pool,
naked, draping our clothes
on the wooden deck to dry,
while overhead a sea gull circled,
spraying white-hot shit
as we ducked beneath the surface of the lukewarm water,
seeing who could hold their breath the longest.
Halloween in the X-Ray Department, Early 90's
Back when doctors, nurses, and other rad techs
would bring in their kid's candy, stuffed
in pillowcases or orange plastic trick-or-treat bowls.
I'd lay it out on a towel, atop the cassette,
before snapping a quick x-ray, making sure there were
no tiny screws or razor blades in the soft meat
of the chocolate or apples. While their parents
waited patiently for the 90 seconds it took the film
to process, the antsy kids wanted the candy,
despite the unknown danger, like an addict
wants the hit regardless of what could be left
in the syringe, the needle's dripping tip.I'd hang the x-ray up and the light would reveal
no real danger, only future dentists' appointments.The kids would greedily eat one or two pieces
as their parents thanked me, and I'd say, Sure, no problem,
thinking it's better than x-raying all those drunks
and bone-breakers out there. The tiny lions,
witches and vampires, even an occasional
baseball player or ninja warrior, all marching off
to a sugar-filled, sleep-deprived night,
as I waved bye and headed over to the ER,
to see what sort of characters were waiting for me.
