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.