Parents
in camo and pajamas
reeking of cigarettes
and marijuana
and hard work
and BO
at the 7th and 8th grade show.
A bunch of kids
playing instruments
for people
that don’t really care.
Moms and Dads
swiping phone screens
talking
not giving a shit about anything
because they confuse being present
with parenting.
I wait for my boy to pound sticks against skin
as people return
again and again
to the spaghetti line
the ice cream line
the soft drinks line
and all I can feel is how much I love
being Dad
when I see him
doing this simple thing.
Making music
without knowing it
getting his insides out
in the middle of this
bullshit.
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