Father's Day 1996
You're still out there.
Adrienne would call me if you died.
Or had another heart attack;
when you had the first one
she even called Gregor,
and she hadn't talked to him for seven years.
Do you still fire that miniature cannon
every Fourth of July?
Do you still listen to Pictures at an Exhibition
and discuss Wittgenstein
as if you had never left college?
Next poem in cycleAnitra's Family Poems