by Katherine Olsen.
The alcohol running through my veins
started in my grandfather’s.
Who said that my inheritance
would only come from grandma’s side?
I never understood why my father
would never watch us playing catch,
I couldn’t understand why mom
sent me off to grandpa, made me ask.
My skinned knees trophies of athleticism,
Light hair, blue eyes unlike his son,
But like himself. I charmed, I learned,
I shined, not stammered. I always won.
Now that I’m a woman he’s reverted
to the sixties when his wife handled the kids.
So now he sits and drinks and now my father,
sits sipping with him and reclaims what’s his.