My Papa

1
My Papas Waltz

• The whiskey on your breathCould make a small boy
  dizzyBut I hung on like deathSuch waltzing
  was not easy.We romped until the pansSlid from
  the kitchen shelfMy mother's countenanceCould
  not unfrown itself.
• The hand that held my wristWas battered on one
  knuckleAt every step you missedMy right ear
  scraped a buckle.
• You beat time on my headWith a palm caked hard
  by dirt,Then waltzed me off to bedStill
  clinging to your shirt.