HE WAS ALWAYS GOOD LIKE THAT
Because we were too small to reach the dartboard
My dad propped it on the couch.
He sang high-pitched,
“Cinderelly , Cinderelly,
Her toes are filled with jelly...”
“Those aren’t the right words, Dad!”
Sitting in a chair close by,
his round belly bounced as he laughed.
“I’m the funniest guy I know,” he says.
He always said that.
On the screen Cinderella is balancing three tea cups;
Two in her hands, one on her head.
I would never sing his songs out loud,
but I hummed them in my head.
The pink gown is taking shape
from needles weaving in and out.
My sisters and I take turns
Throwing the darts: one, two, and three.
First, I try for the green square.
The mice are dancing.
Next, I go for the small red square.
A million Cinderella bubbles are floating away.
I watch as the dart falters,
and hits my mother’s flowery wallpaper.
“Her feet are really smelly...”
Silence. He laughs.
“Let’s hope mom doesn’t notice that.”
The fat king is bouncing high on his
bed swinging his sword at the duke
whose monocle mysteriously stays put.