Oh, Dad
(Father’s Day 2020)
Hey, Dad
Poor Dad
We’re changing your lifestyle
And we’re feeling really bad
It started about five thousand
Years ago,
When fathers learned
They were responsible
For physicality in the home
And something more
That something more kept catching us
Feelings for the children
Dynamics in the group
Be it hunting or the farm or town
Obeisance to the seasons
To leave some art behind
Find something called a god
Where were women in all this?
Except for vulnerable times,
I imagine they were hunting, too
Foraging
Protecting the home
Feeding the family dog
Making allowances for the cat
And were left
To home the home
While men were charmed by
Exploration
Or other commissions taking them
Away
If you watch Hallmark movies,
You’ll find women are sharp
And adaptive
While men are typically dense
Making five thousand years
Seem not that long ago
You see, outcast Eden laid upon the men
Something by Freud called ego
A promise to break promises
So that the wrong part
Of the spirit might
Be sated
Women have it, too
And sometimes play like men
Though their spirit, good parts and bad,
Have been wounded over ages
Now coming into their own
Call it a hundred years ago
Men fought in war
Discovered there was no romance in it
And needed something more
Jobs were lost across the world
There were plagues, too
No provision for the family
The older means, mostly trusted, gone
How does one keep another
On an arid, empty farm
Or in a city walled from caring
About applications?
There was dire need
More war
And on the other side of war,
Those not of the millions who were dying
In the outside battles or the inside
Found jobs
Some schooling
Identical homes along the street
Marriage and children, once again
But this time with differences
Our children got some schooling, too
And were well cared for
Relative to depressing times
They got smart
And started asking questions
War had gone underground by then
Undeclared though the dead were just as dead
Bad time to be secret
Sending youth to die
For an abstract against
Really dying
So our asking youth
Receiving no good answers or
Tissued assurances
Began to protest
Look around now
Our fathers and our grandfathers
Wouldn’t know the place
Surprisingly primitive in some parts
Even and especially
At home
Sophistication breeding self-interest alone
A time of hate and anger
Fanned by the group that wants
Distraction so secret profits
Will out
Lifespan is longer
Healthcare is better
When not strangled by those
Who think it’s fun
To string along the funding
Awareness is more possible
And potent
Though democracy is threatened
By control
Who has it, who wants it
Who might relent not to talk about
But really go after peace
Before the crust is melted of the Earth
By insanity hovered over switches
This is your world, Dad
We’re sorry
Be angry, be frightened
Or, better, rest your ego
Allow yourself to love
And be loved
Even in what must seem a maddened place
A paradox to ask for
But here is still where the magic happens
Brought down to Earth by
God in many names
And no name
Who says, go for peace
And don’t neglect to play
When there are pauses
In the action
Mom must have her day
But here is a day for father
Here is a day for you
Don’t forget the other day
Remember all the days
C L Couch
Oh Dad, Poor Dad, Mamma’s Hung You in the Closet and I’m Feelin’ So Sad: A Pseudoclassical Tragifarce in a Bastard French Tradition
by Arthur Kopit
premiered in 1963
Photo by NeONBRAND on Unsplash
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