Visions of Patching

A memoir in verse

He held the knife close to his chest — What should I do with it, Kid? You could slice me some cheese and put it on some bread, maybe? It’s late and I want dinner.

Come on Dad, Can’t you swing for food? It isn’t that I don’t appreciate you Taking me out to the ball game — But I am hungry, And telling me to ask my Rich grandparents Only fuels my starvation —

And how I have always held Guilt when I did nothing wrong Changing my mind — I was scared to go through The whole haunted house — Out through the in door. Like because you had paid that dollar, I just threw it out the window. When paying for college for me Someday, a decade after I graduate, you will hold over my head — The burden of my education On your life

Or how you will think it is cool When you visit me and I have to Pick up my b.c. pills Run an errand with me Live life like my Dad. You’re so cool — You’ll ask the pharmacist if she thinks We are on a date.

He held the knife up to his Adam’s apple- What should I do with it now? Shave the stubble, Dad. You look a little homeless.

Or is that the look your girlfriend likes? It reminds her of when you met — She dealt you another queen You’ll tell me how in the cards it was meant to be But only through vagueries But I will know she likes that song “Fast Car” Don’t tell me too much. You are going to be North of the River For a few days, And don’t worry I will pay no attention to that tray Under the coffee table When I lie on the floor To do my Wednesday night homework And I will soon forget that razorblade — that will belong to your roommate Who probably stole your jar of quarters Yes — it will be an inside job. Nice friends, Dad I’m only a preteen.

And you’ll never know how Some day At Red Rocks Amphitheater I will remember this detail When Tracy Chapman lights up my heart All acoustic with her greatest hit. You will miss the moments I feel most alive.

He held the knife between his teeth and barely hissed, now? Why don’t you cut out that antagonistic tongue, if you need extra drama tonight.

When my son is born, You will lament you were not invited — As if a dad needs to be invited to his Daughter’s most momentous occasion — No one will receive a formal invitation to his birth It just happens — those who are able to support me Will be there.

Yes, I will know you still love me. But it won’t be about you.

You will only meet my child once — When in infancy, You will hold him up, incredulous That a baby could be so content — Cry a little bit, you’ll tell him Why, so you can pretend to soothe him?

He held the knife up in the air. What do you see now, Kid? I see Mama’s coming for your keys.

I see that I will need to sit in offices And relive this drama in a million ways I will learn eventually to accept What happened to you And I lost you then

I’ll drive really fast with the lights out, or try to get out of the car while it’s moving He said — The knife held to his wrist.

Yes, just like you did when we were little, Dad. You will try to get out while I’m driving some day, You’ll fumble with the auto-lock handle, Fury that makes your daughter unknown Animosity glued to your foggy memory

I may try that trick some day Or maybe get caught driving The wrong way Headlights all wrong Steering wheel melting

I will meet a kid in high school Who will make sure I am aware that I cannot live without him Who will someday remind me Of this night and will bruise my Bones when I try to escape But you will never know him.

He held the knife out to my sister. What now? I don’t know what to do. Run upstairs, I screamed at her.

Can you understand how I will spend My life chasing her friendship Healing from this night Filling up an unfillable gap?

I dare you to, I said at last. I dare you to scar me worse. For your edge isn’t really that steep, But I will forever forget to sleep.

© Samantha Lazar 2019

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