WEBVTT

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This poem is called "Memory."

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And the title-- the first
word of the poem is it's,

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I-T apostrophe S. And
it refers to the word

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of the title, "Memory."

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"It's like watching an
underwater show through glass,

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where girls share an air
hose and ride huge fish.

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My father drove us to see
it in the new 56 Buick.

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His gaudy Florida shirt tattooed
to his chest with sweat.

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While we kids wailed on
one another in the back,

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read road signs and
whined in concert

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until his backhand swung blindly
over the top of the seat,

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clipping the unlucky
one caught in its arc.

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And that one would cry
quietly to himself, well,

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for five minutes.

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The rest of us shut up.

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Now, in this overlay of
silences, my father dead, me

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at my mother's house
for a brief visit,

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I recall our lives seemed
perfectly on the surface

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even if my sister
had nervous attacks,

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and we were warned
about strange men who

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would try to pick us up.

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Of course, we were
taken along by events

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without grasping what's
happening until later, when

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memory gives them shape, that
may not encompass the facts.

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But today, I see
my whole childhood

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in the curves and
fluttering of the girls who

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had learned to smile while
holding their breath.

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And though it must be only
a reflection on the glass,

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behind them, I see my father
drowning in the tank."

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