To my dad and the other night at the Duck’s game.

Been getting pathological, trying to get back to logical,

Smoking silly in signals for mercy, been blowing smoke all my life,

Trying to save myself from what is scared and sacred and Calvinistic,

No I am not narcissistic but persistent In desperation, like salt water

Keeping me afloat like a life to gloat over and over in, on the edge of

Coming back to you, 57 freeway to get by you, ducks game reminding

Me of that’s been as good as dead, and now skating all my life past our

Memories, upheaval and bags packed was yesteryear, now years have

Passed since I’ve heard you scream and stare and get out of here,

Years since I stood at the top of the stairs afraid of my own Persian

Skin, but dark eyebrows remind me that I don’t seem yours in looks

And books you’ve read never prepared you for this, child rearing hardest

Thing a man does now, but you’ve slipped past the alcohol now and the

Weekend blockbuster that keeps it a harbinger of escape and proof in the

Spoof of us together, father, son and lies have all my friends  in a full nelson

With no sense of escaping but the ice got cleaned and you and me back

Together again, all my reservations at the door and ticket scanning a

New entry into the delay of years of damage but your voice speaks in

The crowd of dissatisfied fans and fights and yells to come and squelch

Here this destiny of you and me, never do I back down from my one

Calling, to be a son and listen and reel back past the pain and press

On again like hockey days in the stands you clapped both your hands,

Now lets sit and try to once again understand