Leaving out the Begats

Our father
of curious home remodeling techniques
we recount your works:

A ceiling fan
hooked straight to 220 current
that it might lift the roof
up to the heavens
or be used as a salad shooter.

The aluminum awning
nailed beneath the kitchen window
that it might shelter the dog and cat
in a makeshift kennel
so the raccoons would not steal
their food at night
instead of just feeding the domesticated creatures
in the morning when raccoons
are not around.

The clothes rod
hung in front of the dresser mirror
that shirts and pants might easily be grasped
without opening a closet door
and one’s reflection might be forever
hidden from view.

Yea verily, we shall not speak
of the shirt of polka dot
and the pants of plaid
with which you conceal your form
on the selfsame day,
nor the bathroom door
left unshut that the aroma
of incense might fill the house.

We give here a witness
of but the smallest fraction
of the wonders of one
who if you but drew close
would enumerate in booming voice
an endless account
of his own mighty deeds.


7 thoughts on “Leaving out the Begats

  1. Brilliant. Not so sure your father would agree though. 😉
    As to our exchange on twitter, Aaaaarghhhh could be an alternate title, but you don’t need it in the body of the poem; it’s already so well implied. Might make a good refrain though, heheh.

  2. I love this…what a beautiful tribute poem…I can envision your father, as a loving character, creating fun memories to recite when everyone gathers to his concealed delight (?).

    ☮ Siggi in Downeast Maine

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