he told me he’d be my dad
barreling down the gravel road
in a black S-10
country music static 
wind rushing
through open window
dressed like Maverick
from the pirated VHS 
of Top Gun

years later
we fought 
over how I didn’t care
that his father was dying
in a bed an hour away
from lung cancer
because I didn’t want to
work my grandfather’s garden
without him
because I knew
he was never coming home

my uncle threatened to kill me
after he had swung his fists
I laid him low with a bat
a sophomore in high school
trying to think of being 
a grown man
too early

much later
he was dying of cancer
alone in the house, he had 
banished me from 
shaved head
still dressed like Maverick
sores bleeding on his skin

it was Memorial Day
rain slick and gray
I showed up
stood over him with my hand
in his 
as he cried and told me he tried
that he was sorry
for
all 
those things
that had happened to me

I didn’t know what to say
so we talked about
the new Top Gun
I wished that I had a copy
we would have watched it
I could have told him
one last time that I loved him

and I didn’t blame him
for any of it