Dad's Hand

fa(r)ther and s(o)on
love
is
this trembling
ineffable.
like the flesh of
the freckled(ad)
like the guffaw
of (da)drunk

like the shuddering
hand(ad)
of an abstract
expressionist
of a scotch
drinker

the smell of flesh
paint on the canva(skin)

the chuck
ling
ice
against the glass

but alas
how son stares
transfixed
as though he watches
a cobra's tongue
or
mother's sad lips

before the da(dies)
and after dad let go
of my
mother's thick grip
a a a nd
his
h h h and
fluttered away
ruddy and monarch-like
in wordless wind
free
yet
fettered
to ground
like the gravity spanning
fa(r)ther
and
so(o)n