My Father’s Shot Glass

My Father’s Shot Glass

So engrossed was he

in that miniature object,

gazing into it so attentively

with such devotion and attachment,

‘til he carelessly neglected his

duties that were his true passage

to manhood.

He could’ve nursed and cradled

me within his fingertips,

sung me a goo-goo-da-da

drunken lullaby while gazing

into my eyes for his reflection,

telling me stories of the past, present,

futures of us, as he realized

that I was the best part of him

and he a God in my eyes.

He could’ve placed me to his lips

and threw his head back

and consumed his fears ‘til

the very last drop

and raised me, his son, to the sun

and spun us around

‘til we were hysterically

Delirious with joyful giggles

then fallen to the ground

with me enthusiastically

screaming~

“Again! Again!”