On a good day

            Dad talked little

            Whether mom complained or not

 

            The day he took me out of school

            To go with him to work

            His chin was in the air

            And he moved his lips a lot

            But wasn’t saying anything

            That I could hear

 

            He squeezed my hand

            Especially when we crossed the street,

            And held it tight until we made it

            To the very first subway car

 

            He let me walk up to the window at the front

            Alone, and peer ahead into the dark

            Like the conductor

            As we sped and swayed and screeched

            And stopped and sped again

            To leave the tunnel

            And emerge from underground

            To lurch into the final stop

 

            The sudden sunlight hurt my eyes

            And dad had grabbed my hand again

            As if I’d trip and stumble through the space

            Between the platform and the track

            Without his help

            Which was ridiculous, I thought

 

            Before I felt enough

            To feel offended we were at

            The factory and dad had given me a kiss

            And plopped me down inside the office

            With a pretty secretary who chewed gum

            And told me everything would be all right

            And offered me a piece

 

            When dad came back

            A big guy with a beard was at his side

            Who looked like he would growl

            At me before he shook my hand

 

            I didn’t mind that his was greasy

            But I saw the phoney smile 

            That was plastered overtop the frown

            And bit my lip when he began

            To muss my hair

 

            It was a while

            Again before we left,

            The boss and dad

            Just standing talking baseball

            While the secretary winked at me

 

            As far as I could tell

            My father wasn’t any angrier than other dads

            Although he had a temper

            That was triggered by a hair,

            The only problem being

            You never knew whose hair it was

            Or where it came from,

            Not to mention when

 

            Lots of little things

            You’d hardly notice

            Riled him up –

            Like people giving dirty looks

            Or worse, ignoring him –

            But dad was whistling on the ride back home

 

            Mom hugged me at the door

            As we arrived and then

            The phone rang only once

            Before my father answered it

 

            It must have been good news

            Because that night

            I had as much dessert as I could want

            And nearly more than I could eat

 

            At bedtime mom and dad had pinched my cheeks

            So often I began to think

            I’d done something important

            Besides staying on my feet

            Until we reached what both my parents

            Figured might have been

            The end of the line