Big One in Brazil

Wilfredo sees my father pull up and start his approach,
he knows what's coming.

My father will grab a Red Bull from the case,
place it on the counter, take out his wallet before
putting on the goofiest smile imaginable

then as if he's never walked in the store before,
he'll ask for two scratch tickets and two quickpicks
and Wilfredo will deliver.

On his way out, my father will look back and yell,
"One of these days, Wilfredo, me and you and
a big boat on the Amazon."

Wilfredo will nod (to his day I'm still not sure
if even he speaks a word of English)

And that's the way its been for twenty years
and going.

Originally, the Red Bull would've been a twelve pack
of Budweiser and a box of Marlboro cigarettes and
my dad's mustache would've been in style.

Sometimes my mother would've been there, following
behind my father, laughing at his goofy smile
as she still often does, alongside his first wife,
at birthday parties and baby showers

Occasionally, I've been there too, first appearing
as a chubby four year old who'd kick and scream until
his father bought him a Milkway

and later as a very silent, slightly less chubby,
socially awkward teenager who spent too much time
in front of computer monitors

Maybe someday my dad will hit big, and him and Wilfredo
will catch The Big One in Brazil

... then again, maybe not.