Father's Day <br /> <br />In nineteen-ten, on Father's Day, <br />my real father went away. <br />My mother took another soon, <br />he came and brought me a balloon. <br />That year the bubble burst for them <br />my mother had just sewn a hem <br />on her new dress, it was too long <br />when stepdad came and said 'it's wrong', <br />you women are so dumb it stinks <br />a man's brain works and if he blinks <br />it means that time is given to <br />the likes of brain-dead dames like you! ' <br /> <br />Well, mother took the rolling pin <br />and aimed directly for his chin. <br />Twelve teeth rolled out and hit the tiles <br />they heard him scream for many miles. <br />And after that my mother said <br />another man? I'd sure be dead. <br /> <br />And ever since, we play a game <br />I am called Junior, it's my name. <br />But annually, on this great day <br />my mother fills the green/blue tray <br />with goodies my first father liked <br />the punch, of apricots, is spiked <br />with Gordon's best, it is our genes <br />we drink our gin behind the scenes. <br /> <br />From Britain? Yes, of Royalty <br />and I am father now, you see<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/father-s-day-13/
