My old man
oh, my old man, oh my
old man
is lean
as a wooden spoon
stirring batter
that folds
around it the way
at his waist
a softness drapes.
He sleeps on his back,
straight as a broom.
He sleeps on his side,
curled like a cat.
He sleeps with the heater going
and a T-shirt on.
My old man likes
to catch some zzzzzzzs.