Daddy was always sleeping
long and late
awake his talk endless
stories and laughter
around the crowded kitchen table
the radio played all night long
in clouds of Camel smoke
his sudden rage
scared me
he cursed other drivers
drove faster
swung the car wildly
did doughnuts in parking lots
me holding on
screaming from the backseat
but at bedtime
he read to me
his voice warm
in all the characters
he’d chuckle, clear his throat
and bring them alive.
Now I’m Mom
moving fast
sleeping long and late
stumbling up for coffee
preoccupied
I play my music loud
drive fast lose control
on the way to preschool
My son tells me
“Mommy you shouldn’t say
fuck to the other cars”
At the end of the day we read
some of Daddy’s old favorites.
Cassandra Dallett lives in Oakland, CA. and attends Berkeley City College. Cassandra is the mother of one son and three step-children. She writes poetry and short stories of memoir. Cassandra has published in Cherry Bleeds, Street Spirit, Opium Poetry 2.0, Gutter Eloquence, The Mylvia Street Journal, Criminal Class review, The Beat Museum of San Francisco and now the Deuce Coupe.
I love this poem. It leaves me
with a sense of immediacy…
Very nice.
I remember that crowded kitchen table, I also remember all the live music round that table which we called “Vermont Kitchen”. However that poem said it all!