The Daughter’s first contribution was like pulling teeth. She was supposed to write a poem about her good qualities, but she was so self-effacing, I sat with her to suggest what she was good at, such as dancing, and being a good friend.
In a collective piece called Church and Family Rule, she ended up saying: “Mom: tucks me into bed at night. Dad: watches the news with me at midnight.”
Now, what she had ORIGINALLY written was that I watch the news with her, then something entirely different about our cats Midnight and Stormy. So, NO, Albany, I don’t watch the news with my daughter at midnight, unless she’s having insomnia.
Her solo reading, though, was particularly popular with the crowd. I was glad I had heard it a few times before she delivered it. And I had NOTHING to do with its composition, except, apparently, as its inspiration.
My dad and I dance to The Beatles.
Well, I wouldn’t call what he was doing DANCING, but something like that.
I dance to I Saw Her Standing There, Help, Hey Jude, and Revolution.
My dad sings, “She was just seventeen if you know what I mean.”
And as soon as he starts to sing, I start to sing.
It’s SO annoying, but it’s still fun.
We do it a couple of times a year, usually around the Beatles’ birthdays.
SHE added the extra “if” to the song lyric.
It was well-received by the audience that was clearly not a traditional hip hop demographic.
Poems (c) 2016 Lydia P. Green