Flexing Muscles
Dad’s elbows were resting
on the kitchen table
The Advertiser stretched out
in front of him & he was mumbling
about the threat of a nuclear war
it was October of 1962
& Khrushchev & Castro were
flexing their muscles at JFK
i was flexing my own
standing in front of dad’s shaving
mirror wearing my new black shirt
the sleeves rolled up tight
against my now bulging biceps
there won’t be a war i said
you carry on about that
all the time
his blue eyes came up over his horn rim
glasses & he stared me down
don’t be so bloody sure about
that & what are you doing flexing
your muscles
i might get a tattoo i told him
don’t be so bloody stupid
you won’t be getting any tattoos
i’ll give you the drum on that right now
why not i said with all the
arrogance i could muster
you’re just a kid now but you’ll
grow up & you might find yr’self
in all sorts of trouble
you don’t know what the future
holds
whadda ya mean i asked
you might rob a bank
you might kill someone . . .
you don’t know what’s around the
corner
so you don’t set yourself up
to give the coppers an even break
get that through your head
now he said
& went back to reading his paper.