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Willy Loman Dad

I've got a Willy Loman dad
I think he's going to kill us all
White lines are a mystery to him now
And he drifts off, talking…

In younger days when the sky was black and the medicine
That he took for his kidney stones had him
Lain up in bed without ache and we would see him
In the window…giving us the finger
Shouting down to the boys in the alley
"Mick, get yer suit on…the tie's all messy"
Still…we wondered who "Mick" was
But we slept under summer straw and waited for the weeds to
Suffocate the weak ones of the group
Only we did not know…Life would do that to us all, in time
Like my father, before his thirtieth birthday
He sat watching the fireworks in Florida
While we drove in a van to the sea
To swim in oceans, to stand in sand
Now dad says his head hit concrete now
Just beyond the pale of any method
And we long for the glorious days
When our names were still coherent in his voice
And he would rattle of tunes of some forgotten musical
And the white lines were within reason

I've got a Willy Loman dad
I think he's going to kill us all
The white lines are blurred to him
And he drifts off…


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