from From "Brief Biography of an Imaginary Daughter"
#1 [COLLEGE]
We packed your satchel with sweatshirts,
Soccer equipment, and The Elements of Style,
Loaded up the Hum Vee, a sad drive to JFK
And the cross-country flight to starting college,
where fortunately due to Advanced Placement
Courses you’ve already been awarded your MFA
And published your first book.
As we pulled out of the driveway, I slammed
On the brakes, and not on account of Jubilation,
The neighbor’s cat. “Stacey,” I said, “we have jumped the gun.”
“I didn’t know we had a gun, Pops,” you said.
“This is a figure of speech, a melonaphore.
But you can’t go to college yet,
Stacey, you’re barely by my count five years old.”
“That’s all right, Daddy-O, nice try.
But my name’s not Stacey.”
#2 [PUPPY]
Love this puppy and your love will be repaid.
I can’t stress how little this will teach you about life.
Which it will. Which is a lot.
Sometimes, when you’re sad, I won’t know what to say.
Desire will cut into the bone.
So much we need to cover before you’re on your own.
This is a tea kettle, where goldfish won’t feel at home.
When I was your age, before you were born,
A war was almost certainly about to break out.
The Russians turned out to be just like us,
Only worse drivers, which is a lot like us, too.
I had a pet once, too, you know. An accordion.
Very tough to train, stained with fluids as it was
About which nothing further need be said.
Your questions matter. No, they really do.
I have no clue as to the white carnations,
No reason to suppose the stars were not meant for you.
#3 [FISH]
“Do fish sleep?” I am so glad you asked. Once
Upon a time fish did not even catnap.
Childhood has reached a certain point.
More specific than that, I cannot be,
Or less. When you drive to Chartres
You can see it coming at you far away.
Never pass up a cathedral if you can.
Drink lots of water with the strawberries.
Leap before you look too hard, which makes
Things swim in your head, like fish that never sleep.
#4 [BIRDS…]
“Time’s come to talk to you about the birds.”
“And the bees?”
“What do you know about the bees?”
“Was just asking.”
“A falcon is one bird you can’t keep in a cage,
I can’t explain why, though I might point
To history for many instructive precedents.”
“You have trouble explaining, Dad.”
“Anyway, what I like about birds is, they’re much
Like dreams—they fly in through a window
Where you didn’t know there was a window before.”
“I get it. We open to the known and discover
Mysteries left in their place, like putting under the pillow
A tooth that fell out and you come up with the cash
When you need it in the morning, for school.”
“Let’s stay focussed, Amy.” “Sure, Reginald.”
“I mind it that you call me Reginald, who’s he?”
“Someday, Dad, I may fall in love.”
“Let’s go back to the birds. I don’t want to say
Love is for the ornithologists, though such thoughts occur.
Maybe the real topic is experience.”
“I knew that.” “When?” “You told me.” “I never.”
“Didn’t have to.” “That’s how, you just know?”
“Life’s a vale of tears, Pops, except when it’s not.”
“Hence, sweetheart, some birds thrive in cages.”
“Name three.” “I want you to try on some wings.
I want you to take flight. Like the day I gave birth…”
“What?” “The day I gave birth to you was the day of days.”
“You feeling OK?” “The epidural worked like a charm,
I felt like I was swimming in air.” “I think you’re confused.”
“I wouldn’t be the first, but when they handed you to me
You nursed till you fell asleep.” “You’re talking about love.”
“And some bees sting.”
#5 [BOND]
Once we had a bond, a sacred trust.
I carried you on my shoulders, we watched
The finches dart and feed, I read The Odyssey
To you, which OK was a stretch, but who cared
You did not exist? Certainly, not me.
But take the example of Homer.
Would you just give me a chance?
There’s an old dog called Argus
Who waits for the hero to show before he dies.
I’m getting to the point. If we never had a dog
I would wait for you to arrive from a journey
Forced upon you by chance and fate.
You see, the whole thing’s about waiting.
There you are off-stage readying yourself
For a grand entrance into a life none of us
Heretofore presumed. I myself ache
Barometrically in concert with the coming storms.
If you never are, I have something left over
Even if it’s only me, watching you wade in, as if
You were a great swimmer and this world another shore.
Copyright Credit: Joseph Di Prisco, "Brief Biography of an Imaginary Daughter [1-5]" from Sight Lines from the Cheap Seats. Copyright © 2017 by Joseph Di Prisco. Reprinted by permission of Rare Bird Books.