Letting you go

Daddy Daddy Daddy Daddy Daddy

Say the name until all meaning
detaches from the word.
Leave behind the brown leather belt
hanging on the wall.

Dad Dad Dad Dad

Forget the camping trips on the Little Susitna,
when I lost you favorite, green Pixie lure
or tripped and knocked you chest of Budweiser
in the river. You made me cut my own Willow switches.

Father Father Father

Expel the anger that rises in my
heart at the sound of that name.
Grow past the feeling of only being a check
each month that mom had to fight for.

Man Man

Repress the memory of the scar on my arm
where he burned me to show cigarettes hurt.
Reduce him to the only title
he has left.

Stranger