My Kid

The alarm went off at eight
as it is set to do
An easier chore for alarms
than for those who answer them
And I rolled over
unwilling to let go of the pillow
not because of being up too late
or some other reasonable excuse
But for reasons I had to reach for
scratching through what is me
as well as what used to be
and what once was
that has come to lay itself in this bed
and use my name

A long way to go
and I wasn't but halfway there
These debates with the me that is
and the me that used to be
are sometimes one sided
Too much good guy over bad guy
hard guy against easy guy
and I hear my father's voice
What're you gonna do
sleep your damn fool life away?
and he's right
but my kid doesn't want to work today
My kid has been trying to tell me for a month
that he doesn't want to write

But I've not listened
as my father taught me not to
My kid wants to come outside and play
walking the dog on long rambling tours
of parks and ponds we haven't seen
Impatient with the abbreviated runs
we've shoplifted from my day
What's the point of dogs if not for loving
and the searching out of secrets
My kid needs to cut and paste
and build some imagery
of motorcycles, vintage cars
biplanes, treehouses, big boats
Roman walls and naked women

To fill his kid-mind with exhibitions
Wandering the streets that too long
were just the way to somewhere
My kid hears voices
calling him to play
and the turning in my bed
is an answer if I hear it
There's work to be done
but not until my kid is breathless
ruddy-cheeked and ready