my papa bear
is sleeping  

my papa bear has tatted sleeves
a droopy surfer,
a katana up a samurai’s nose,
a Harley up his wrist,
and eventually
the family name inked in there
somewhere  

my papa bear tells tales of
farting contests
in the emergency room,
waters the grass
but only at night
so he can display a gun
in his waistband, l
aughs at little people
jumping on trampolines,
and says
mondo gazungas
a lot  

my papa bear is
in hibernation