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Meandering thoughts of a Bay Area college student… be prepared for some bipolar vocabulary

My Papa’s Waltz

My Papa’s Waltz

The whisky on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy
But I hung on like death
Such waltzing was not easy

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf
My mother’s countenance
Could not unfrown itself

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step I missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.

-Theodore Roethke

Think about it…

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..

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Title is “Papa’s Waltz

A father and his daughter are dancing.

The whiskey on your breath is strong.

They danced in the kitchen, making a mess and the mother frown.

Every step she missed, she hit my dad’s belt buckle because she’s so damn short!

He taps on her head to keep her in rhythm. Then he carried her to bed, even though she don’t wanna.

…And you thought the dad was abusive =P

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