he
drinks cutty sark
watches the discovery channel
eats the left over lasagna i made with
kraft american cheese (that no one else will touch)
he takes me fishing every week still
even though i am too old to talk to him sweetly
and too young to talk you him with respect
its been years since he quit smoking but
he smells of smoke and whiskey and hearty smiles
he tells me what a good cook i am
and that my hair looks nice today
he hands me condoms
and begs me not to have sex yet
he loves my mother the way i won't see again
until my brother meets his wife
i am eighteen
seeing my father for the last time
he is sitting on the couch
drinking cutty sark and
eating the left over lasagna i made with
kraft american cheese (that no one else will touch)
he says, "you're a good cook"
and i forget to say,
i love you.
