I’m thinking of my old man
this Father’s Day, how he liked
his cocktails and cigarettes,
the Cubs, and Connery’s Bond.

I’m thinking of the pinches of 
toilet paper stuck to his chin 
mornings when he was rushed for work. 

I’m thinking of the time he hit 
a grand slam to win the company 
softball game, when he caught 
the big muskie, and the medal he won 
for loving his country.

I’m thinking how his dad would cook
him a steak for every touchdown he scored,
and how I never beat him at arm wrestling — 
even when I finally could have.

I’m thinking how I could use his advice
right about now — now that I finally want it.