Happy Fathers Day

My earliest memories of you

are leaving to work somewhere else

and coming home again, drunk.

Passing out in the bathtub, fully 

clothed, water running, and mom screaming. Drink

to your hearts content. We’re not fools.

Cherubs in witches hats, candy,

and cartoon characters knocking down

the door. Finally, our cries are heard 

and ‘round the neighborhood we go.

Rosy cheeks and toothy grins we are

oblivious. Later, still superheroes

eating candy still not separated,

you hulk smash the door and swoop

us into the air. Your breath smells of hops

and chewing gum. One look at mom,

who’s long given up screaming (much)

and my baby-faced brother and I know

bedtime is coming early tonight. Time for

toothbrushes, teddy bears and silence

strong enough to shatter glass.

Author's Note

This needs work still.