The Hoarder

You walk away
leaving a space
where you used to be.
Never one for waste
I fill it up
with things
I should have thrown
out years ago.

page 64

Familial Duties

My old man spreads the past
before him like a banquet,
sampling morsels,
but his diet is not exactly balanced.

The war, the war, he mutters
and every day
when his gimpy leg
begins twitching
he says, a storm’s a-comin,’
like he’s Woody Guthrie or something.

Dad and Mac and Joe and Bennie
sure raised hell
when they finally got to Paris.
They were wild zany boys.
What antics! What craziness!
And those French women!
Thank you, American,
thank you, American.

So I said, thank you America
after I did my Tour,
and I hot-potatoed to New Zealand
cos I couldn’t stand the thought
of my and Dad’s war-wounds
twitching together
bringing double the rain.