Eels

my grandpa set his watch on railroad time..
he dozed and spilled his pipe
on the New York Times.
when he woke
he choked and choked..
in time with the Brooklyn line..
by the time
the train had passed
he was gone.
and the eels in the Sound
kept swimming on.

Eels are snaky creatures
they slither and they snake
they make an old man
grab a hold
make a grandson shake

Eels are slick & slimy
they wriggle , no mistake
they make an old man
use both hands
a grandson
shifts his weight

what's a 50 pounder to
a set of ancient knees
what's a look over the side
if he's trying to see ...
the struggle and the battle
of his hero
and an eel.

my lurch , his launch
his splash, my birth.
is what saved both of us
I pulled him in
swore to make peace
as he swore fisherman.

The Sound was silent
the eel was free.
flowing blood
both our knees

He laughed and gave my hair a toss
he gathered me
to be.
motor boat
headed home
smiling like the sea.

He asked me if I loved my mom.
he told me I should tell her.
he asked me to not smoke
the "pot" or drink myself
to ruin.

there's an eel that got away..
Long Island Sound
that summer day.
there's an eel
that's got a feel
for come what may...

maybe he squiggled home
told his kids he loved them
even though
they worked his only nerve
like it wasn't curved on curves

He smelled out his wife..
and spiraled her
snaked a kiss
reminded her
that he was lucky
to be green
watering the waterway ....

tightening the tightening
he hugged her close
and said he'd be
a father to her sons
a father to her girls
a father
to all needs.

I still wrangle with the ruin thing,
I don't smoke the "pot"
or do heroin
I love my mom
and my dad too
they know that
cause I show that
I'm trying to not rock the boat
no more.

My grandpa set his watch on railroad time..
he dozed and spilled his pipe
on the New York Times.
when he woke
he choked and choked..
in time with the Brooklyn line..
by the time
the train had passed
he was gone.
and the eels in the Sound
swam on.