Father Was A Businessman
By Luke Icarus Simon
Published 1 January 2021
Then we would wait for the plane to touch down
your big sister would scream as
she was always the dramatic one in the family
(twice divorced before The Beatles)
You would rough our hair with your huge hands
Mother would straighten it all
no questions were asked of us
promises of special gifts brought back
In two weeks you would be gone
leaving behind a smell of sweat
a debris of maleness
raised voices
Mother in constant sniffles
a day in the park
buying us melted chocolates from the kiosk
a block each
and soon soon
(your blue eyes already out of focus in our memory)
a letter would arrivestamped with foreign writing
a precious stamp we fought over
requesting us to send
our traced palms
on the thinnest of aerogram paper.