As soon as you hear
Federici’s organ moaning
deep down in your bones
punctuated by The Professor’s
piano, you can see Bruce
with his head hung low
lurking in the shadows
still steps from the microphone.
When he moves closer
the crowd rumbles, roars
and Springsteen shushes
them quiet with his hands.
He folds both hands over
the mic, opens his mouth
and his hoarse whisper
reigns over the arena.
Instantly you’re taken
home, all the way back
to the house you grew
up in, walking the dark
hallway past your parents’
bedroom after another
aimless late night.
Happy to have avoided
seeing your father
all day, you heard him
talking to your mom,
his voice a simmering
whisper, telling her
how sick and tired
he was of you. When
will he get a freakin’
job
and move his lazy ass
out?
Your mom listened, waited
until he ran out of breath,
just give him a little
more
time. He’s my son too
and I won’t let you
throw him out. No,
never.
Your father never had any
time, he quit school at twelve
to work on an ice truck
during the tail end
of the depression. He married
your mom at nineteen, nine
months later they had you
and for eight hours a day,
plus all the overtime
he could get, every damn day,
he worked at the A&P warehouse
trying to stretch his money
to the next pay check.
You were floundering
around in college, reading
novels and sociology textbooks
trying to find some kind
of work you wouldn’t hate
with every breath. You spent
most of your time in schoolyards
shooting hoops, leaning
on the hood of your car
trying to talk Julia Jordan
into a ride along the shore.
You walked to your room,
dropped your clothes on the floor,
got into bed without waking
your brother and you wish
you had known how to thank
him for that time back then,
that chance to find yourself
and a job with some sense
of purpose and contentment,
but all he ever did was yell
and criticize anyway. You fall
asleep humming along
to the song you swear Springsteen
wrote about you and your father,
“They ain’t gonna do
to me
what I watched them do
to you.”
First published in Paterson Literary Review
No comments:
Post a Comment