So say this man is your ride home, a rusted Chevy that’s two hours late. And yes, you may call him daddy, but only after he remembers to pry his backside off a barstool and fulfill a minimal obligation. Nothing about this scenario is heartwarming; conversation dwindles to nil, a byproduct of his discomfort with fatherhood. There are reasons for his delinquent arrival, he swears, things a kid couldn’t possibly understand. And maybe you can’t. Yet still, his excuses haunt your childhood like an imaginary closet monster, or the ghost of a parent gradually killing himself with booze and distance.
Adrian S. Potter writes poetry and short fiction. He’s author of the fiction chapbook Survival Notes (Červená Barva Press, 2008) and winner of the 2014 Lebanon Poets’ Society Free Verse Poetry Contest. Publication credits include The Poet’s Touchstone, I-70 Review, Siren and burntdistrict. Additional propaganda is at http://adrianspotter.squarespace.com/.