Chocolate covered
Dripping off the wooden spoon
On that Monday when you made cookies
For your dad's birthday
Two years before
He kicked you out of the house
And I can't help you see
How it's not wrong
To love that boy in your math class
Spending the fifty minutes
Clockwatching
But it's not a clock
Sitting next to you with dark wavy hair
And bright consoleful amber eyes
Amber spinning swaying tall hiding
In the park behind your house
Where your dad found you stargazing,
Ridiculed you for wearing pink
Tickle me pin, like sunsets
And locked you outside that night
You forgave him the next morning
Because after all he is your father
You can't hear me screaming off my roof
That if I criticized you
For having ice blue eyes
It'd be one three hundred and twenty second
Of how wrong he is to treat you
Like you're spiting him
Every time you smile into those
Amber tiger-eye stone irises
Throwing guilt for no innocent crime
No crime committed
My good man
No wrong deed done
No knife, claimed to be, in your back
Spilling warm crimson
Regrettably
Onto the white carpet
And then can't accept
That there's nothing wrong with you
So the keys are taken and locks are changed
And he throws you out on the street
But you still would come home
And hug him, wishing you had more often
On my stubborn Chopin-speaking
Shakespeare literate
Beautifully intelligent
And intelligently stubborn comrade
You would still walk in the door
And wipe your feet
And forget regret
Because after all he is your father
And after all you are his son.
