Petticoat Dictator said, "That old file cabinet--
has to go. This you can save!"
Diary of old poetry in late seventies. Homecoming
written for a Creative Writing class. Envisioned
my father if he ever woke up. He never did!
HOMECOMING
I came rushing home to tell you the news
After all the year of trouble and pain,
"Dear, I have given up the booze!"
I looked at the door and tried
The lock, noticed the name was not the same
Have you moved, the key still fits
But you have given up my name.
I looked around, peered inside
Everything but my pictures in the same old place
On the mantle disappeared without a trace
I peaked inside, kids were a sleep and saw how
My how have they grown
Inside our bedroom you were not alone
It was then I realized how long I had been away
All the times I was going to write
But then drank the night away
I wrote a note saying how sorry I felt
But the pen just dropped from my hand
How could I ever make you understand?
Looked back in the kids room
Saw the smiles I never knew on their sleeping faces
I knew the new father gave them loving embraces
Suddenly my fingers trembled and I knew
Such feelings of remorse
The letters asking me for divorce
Suddenly I need a drink more
Than any drink I had drunk before
I grabbed a glass poured the booze
Then smashed it on the floor
Only then I awoke I had been dreaming all the time
Woke the drunk next to me borrowed his last time
I"m leaving now on a Greyhound bus never drink again
For you mix wine with love the bottle never wins
Jan 7, 1980
They called me to tell my my father long ago gone
Gave up drinking with a new family and died in a house fire.
I did not believe a word said. They wanted my signature
Realism never matches reality. As eldest son I signed
away his estate. Did not want him alive or dead
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