First thing I remember was asking papa, why
For there were many things I didn’t know
And daddy always smiled and took me by the hand
Saying, someday you’ll understand…..John Fogerty

In this picture
there is no picture
just snow on the screen
where Sugar Ray’s
suppose to be
Mike’s up the pole
hands on the antenna
and Pat hollering at the window
when Gillette’s Boxing Cavalade
appears razor sharp
It’s Friday evening, Dad’s home
We watch the pummeling
the head snap back
the cut above the eye 
the rounds ring in and out
Mike and Pat chant Sugar Ray
Sugar Ray Sugar Ray Sugar Ray
it’s the championship match
it’s somebody’s final collapse

Before the k.o.
Mom goes to her room,
overcome by jabs and hooks
she rests on her side
with her hands on her belly
I take her a glass of water
with the faintest idea
of what pregant might mean

The night rustles
with moans and groans
and station wagon sounds
Esther comes over
to look after Kate the tot

On that empty Saturday
my sister Missy gives me 
a new term to learn:
Dad looks bruised
when he comes home 
to say Mom is alright
he says he held the tiny one
in his palm and saw how
her hand had made a fist