father

the roar of the garage door rips
through the air, a veritable trumpet
blare, call to arms, reveille, a burst of snare-

beat of drum, steady rude:
the rumble of unison step as it forges
a pathway through the godly feud.

a boisterous voice
declares his toast, the lamps burst open,
wide as blinking eyes,

golden bright light streams and paints the ivory walls
dandelion.

"Drink to me, my Children three!"
the Pops of bottles' cork;
overflowing porcelain trough
and clutching dinner fork.

"Tonight, we feed upon the host of food prepared by
God's own hand entwined with the spirits of the Good!"
A bounty erupts from the clatter of burning pots;
as black as coal, they open up to bathe the quiet family
with an aromatic fantasy of salts, sugars, and saturated fats;
a moment's hesitation pause before they gorge themselves from the microwaved vat.