I live city central in a bastard cousin community of my father’s
if he were Italian and groused with every slap of the northwest wind

I am at that age that you were
when I developed my first memories of you
wars less foreign than domestic
island-hopping marriages with ample Marshall Plans attached

if you were here, you’d agree
that the best lessons come from voices never heard
startled and just beyond comprehension
like fresh horseradish on matzoh
a little moral imperative that you feel in your bent over gut

years later with legend framed by an order
grounded across time zones and glasses of gin
your legacy looks back in my mirror every day.

12/27/2009

Posted on 12/27/2009
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