Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Aches

          It is March
          or another one of those depressingly damp months
          and I am home, which is rare.
I wince as my prematurely arthritic knees
make horrifying noises --
the clicks and pops and elastic-y
sounds that I imagine
you might hear if a beast
were tearing your shoulder out of its socket --
nothing out of the ordinary.

          My father watches
          from his post in front of the television --
one which has never had cable programming
and with the switch to digital broadcasting
will soon have nothing to offer at all.
But he has managed to find some scrambled
channel with an afternoon rerun of Little House
on the Prairie, or another equally depressing show.

          I say
          "This weather is bothering my arthritis"
and he responds, matter-of-factly
that if I kept my weight down
maybe I would take some of the stress off my joints.
Sound advice for a girl of twenty struggling with the
mortifying measurements of 5 foot 4 and 125 pounds.
Obesity to be sure.

          I crouch 
          down, wincing again
to complete the task of tying my running 
shoes. I begin to wonder where the limb-eating
beast is, and why he is taking so long to come
to this house. And before I take off 
down the street I say
"enjoy your show daddy." 

5 comments:

nckhrkman said...

should've titled it: "for my dad, a dick"

Ambition Bird said...

oh no, he's not a dick
he is just quirky
I thought this one was kind of funny.

Greg Johnson said...

The ambiguity is interesting, but the last line seems rather nice.

Jam Arch said...

Sound aggressiveness...probably one of your most original works.

Ambition Bird said...

I seem to be having alot of difficulty writing about my dad. The last two poems were received in a much more dark way than I intended them. I suppose it is just a reflection of a complicated relationship.

I want to be able to write honestly, but not unsympathetically about him. "Bravery" is a good poem to reference for a more accurate account of my feelings on the situation.

I love my father and respect him, but it is never that simple.