My father says, with a laugh,
I don’t see color. He doesn’t say it
while looking at me. My father is
an intelligent man, a career man,
a man who would never cause waves.
My father is a kind man, an alcoholic,
a computer geek, a conservative,
an electrical engineer, and yet he doesn’t
look me in the eye – he doesn’t want
to make me uncomfortable. He would never
want to make anyone uncomfortable.
He is a good man, a stand up guy, saves
for the future. His father was a drunk, his brother
was a drunk and he became a drunk. He is American.
He achieved the American dream. Voted for Trump
the first time. I didn’t know my father until he told me
to leave the room when I was a child:
You need to find somewhere else to be.
I didn’t know my father until he pulled the wooden post
from my parent’s bed frame and threatened my mother:
It would only take one swing.