He never showed me how to get down, stay
in front of hard hit grounders. Never bought
boxing gloves or taught me to use tools.
We never went hunting or fishing. Never
woke up at four in the morning, whispered
in and out of the bathroom, packed gear
in the back of a station wagon. Never fed
a fire or slept under the stars. No ice cold
beers to drink. Not one Korean War story.
My father went to work six days a week, left
while I still slept and came home hours
after dark. Sitting down to supper, he grunted,
nodded his head when I told him about A’s
on history quizzes, no hitters I pitched.
He ate quickly, drank black coffee, flicked
cigarette ashes in his dish and pushed back
his chair. He kissed mom’s forehead, brushed
a hand through my hair, went upstairs to bed.
“I am a life long resident of NYC. My poems have been published in numerous print magazines and recently I have been trying to find new additional readers online. The enclosed poems have been previously published. ‘Blue Collar” first appeared in the New York Quarterly, “The Last Lie” in The Ledge and “Renal Sonogram” in Newtown Literary.
ONE WISH LEFT, a full length collection that went into a second edition, was initially published by Pavement Saw Press in 2000 and in 2010 THE LAST LIE, was published by NYQ Books. My new collection, UNTIL THE LAST LIGHT LEAVES, will be forthcoming at the end of this year and focuses on my more than 30 years managing group homes for the mentally disabled and my relationship as a kind of step-father with the autistic son of an ex-girlfriend.”