Ode to The Old Man’s Sock Drawer

I don’t remember when or why you opened up to me the first time. I think it had something to do with The Old Man’s socks. 

But I’m not sure.

White or gray for work. Dress up black and brown. Hand me downs near the bottom were much appreciated when I needed a clean pair for school. 

Though the books were the best surprise,

I found the girlie mags first. 

They opened my eyes, pole axed my body, muddied my mind and made me curious as to what else there was inside of you.

“Banned in Boston” dust cover editions of Henry Miller, James Joyce and DH Lawrence. Dirty jokes, autographed photos of strippers and pornographic cartoons. 

Gideon’s Bible and a love letter from Mom.

Thank you for sharing your secrets with me.

Thank you for keeping mine.

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About joefingas

I am a songwriter, poet, blues singer, and a boogie woogie piano player. I have a grandson but I have no children of my own. All my women have wised up and left me. I was a bum, a wino, a drug/alcohol counselor, a prevention/intervention specialist and a pretender. I have no more time to pretend.
This entry was posted in Blues, Co-Dependency, Love, Memoir, Parenting, Poetry, Relationships, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Ode to The Old Man’s Sock Drawer

  1. Oh that was so smart. Thank you.

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