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      May 31, 2013My Father Loves Me, He Loves MeAngelo Verga

      My father hugs me, and sweats
      we go down one step
      at a time
      face to face, neck to neck
      My hands under his arms
      my left foot
      then my right foot down
      my face rests on his chest
      then his right leg drifts, descends
      the foot hesitant, his face clenched
      A long rest, and then, his left floats
      joins its best friend and
      his face softens, less tense
      One step of the twelve-step staircase done
      Five minutes later we’ve bottomed
      This is fun, I say
      We look gay, he frowns, out of breath
      and we both laugh, till his eyes grow wet
      The two doors, inner and outer
      are easier, but slow
      Outside we try another dance
      he holds the banister with one hand
      my shoulder with his other
      I have one hand halfway
      around his titanic belly
      and the other free, if he
      should begin to let go or fall
      The car in the driveway with its small
      unlocked door seems far away
      How am I going to get in? he asks
      Ass first; then one leg at a time
      And slow, slow, dad, we’ve got no deadline
      Eleven o ‘clock, he corrects
      The doctor can’t start without us, pop, no sweat
      But I am wrong, his shirt is drenched wet,
      His thin hair matted, and flat

      from #21 - Summer 2004

      Angelo Verga

      “I recently took a bus from New York City to the Boston area and gave four poetry readings before various groups that sponsored me. After one of these, in a large and drafty home in Watertown, Massachusetts, a man about 50 years old told me he’d been moved by several of my poems; then he said he was going right home to hug his kids, to let them know he loved them, and to feel more deeply their love for him. Best review I ever got!”