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June splits us in half

June 2019 – Swinging for the fences in Q- Bop City  (selected pieces from Seeing Eye Ear/Q Bop City/new work

One for all the Dads  6/16/2019

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_VMxDkapN0

father son 7

 

The Old Man’s Fault

 

Hallmark defines

yet another contrive

consumer day of obligation

but fails to see the

species, phylum, the role

the basic biological

reality as it exists beyond

some 5 dollars of gaily configured cardboard

with sentimentality nobody really believes

or nasty sarcasm that all most

everyone smugly snickers at and buys.

 

father son 4No.

Closer to the truth

on this Sunday morning in June

is that the once thought of as

Protector

Provider

Patriarch

of the nuclear family

has been reduced

to an atom smashed

pulverized fragment

waddling away down

the aisles in Krap-Mart

in a sad post-modern procession

of the daddy parade.

 

The fat sad daddies

The trim yuppie daddies

Hung over haunted looking

out estranged vacant eyes

ghosts of father figures

Booze fighter Fathers of

medication

neutered

trivialized

reduced to

being walking ATMs

for their families

support and subsistence.

 

Father son 8Big dumb stupid looking

bumbling cartoon cats

lisping along as their

little kitten sons

trail a half a dozen steps

behind them with a

brown paper bag

over their heads

whining…..

 

Father son 3O Father….I’m so ashamed…”

 

All hail

that worthless drunk

drinking by himself

out in the garage

that fragile shaky

blue veined pasty

pile of protoplasm

who holds his family

together with a iron

willed grip of silly putty

and threat of the liability

of alimony

His manhood

maculated

Balls ?

What Balls ?

He’s been bent over

in a question mark

into a bowling ally

beer gut male pattern

baldness worn down

burnt out shell

surfing porn sites

of the internet looking

for pictures of women

who remind him of

old girl friends.

 

In nature

Especially the insect world

The male role is

defined only

the biological imperative

Basically ?

He’s fertilizer

after that

it’s off to be eaten.

 

If he’s lucky.

 

So here’s to your Dad

The father

once son himself

reduced to a lonely holy ghost

 

And if he’s not here

remember

your first teacher

the artist who help

create the piece of work

that is you.

 

Daddy on a lease

Daddy on the skids

Pale wobbly old man

shaking his fist a death

Raging how he still can

even if he never did in the first place.

 

You want to believe that

you’re here on earth because that worthless

bastard thought about getting laid

one night after too many beers

and conceived your existence ?

 

Go for it.

 

fathersonBut closer to the truth

just maybe you never knew

that once there was a man

who when he looked at you

in the eyes for the first time

in that moment

did see

a world of love

shinning private light

like a gate in heaven

had been left ajar.

 

 

Go right ahead.

Curse his name as you try to forget him.

 

But….. if he’s still around ?

some night

and no not on this day…

crack him a cold one

and put your hand on his shoulder and say.

 

“ No…..to be fair it’s not all your fault

I would have been so goddamn miserable even without you.”

 

And then duck pretty quick

as he takes a swing at you….

 

And he connects square

and plants back on your smart mouthed little ass?

 

You had it coming.

 

Sometimes Grief – 6/2010

*

 

 

Burning June

Each June sunset

burns like a stick match

struck against balance

left in the calendar box.

Right now I’ve got 15 left.

But who’s counting ?

I am.

 

Narration/text composition/arrangement- Vincent Quatroche Image association – Kayla Cunningham Acoustic Piano – Matt Wiggers Sound realization Dan Berggren
*

New Year Shorts 2019

What Kind of Guy was He ?  7.0

What kind of guy was he?

He was prone to taking victory laps

Before he really had been anywhere

Or even sniffed a finish line in his life.

*

The Georgia Peach

 

One sports writer of the era

Once wrote that Ty Cobb

would climb a mountain

To punch an echo

*

Merkle’s Boner

 

After all these years

I’ve earned a place

In the record books

As the Fred Merkle of poetry

*

The Truth about Lassie

*

 

First off Lassie was a dude in reality

Not a she but a he named Hal

Not especially obedient cooperative or well trained

And in general really disliked children

 

They had to smother Roddy McDowell’s face

With ice cream so that Hal would lick it

And as for that scene where Hal

Gave Liz Taylor that long loving look?

 

One of the stagehands

Was holding a steak over Liz’s head

Just out of the cameras frame.

*

Yet more lost Dogs

Nobody refers to them

As Frankfurters anymore.

 

 

*

Recalling a NFL Hall of Famer  

 

I still remembering watching him in the bar

Over near the cigarette machine

On August  training camp evening

Glowering in disgust at everything & everyone

And I thought:

This guy has the world by the ass

But that look on his puss

Suggested he could only smell shit.

*

Drum Roll Please

It truly could be said of him

That walked to the beat of the length

Of his own plank.

 

 

*

Why all the Tinsel ?    

         for Boni Iris

 

When she was a little girl

As we were decorating the Christmas Tree

She asked, Dad why do we have to hang this Tinsel stuff ?

It’s messy and gets everywhere-

 

And I told her- well that’s the point

You’ll find it all the coming year

Around the house to remind

You of this Christmas past

And hopefully the next one to come.

 

 

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