Being Picked Up by an Absent Father

was like getting an empty present

At least it was the thought that counted

Walking through Jefferson Mall with a man

who tells me he still loves my mother

as we pass Foot Locker

is similar to hearing the score in a movie theater

because I wasn't listening

I’m reminded by the awkwardness

that hugs my smile

because my parents’ eyes move

Like missing easy targets

their gazes wander off into limbo

On the phone my mother never says his name

“My daughter’s dad is on the way”

“Allyson’s father will take her”

“She’ll figure it out one day”  

My mother’s next stop is graduate school

My father’s moves were never predicted

Mother wears a navy suit coat

Dad wears a black mesh shirt

Me, a seven-year-old girl, holds the hand of a man

who dances on intimate stages

“Stay right here,” he says

He lets go of my hand

and I lose parental guidance

my legs are getting lazy

As I center the busy walkway

where plastic Hollister manikins mock me

and complete families in Payless look happy

He chases loose single ladies

who look nothing like my mother

Their unfinished dresses leave spaces

for imagination to fill in

Cheap JC Penny push-up bras

squeeze their back fat

Their painted faces brighten up

as he pleads for their attention

He remembers my name

and orders me to give promotional flyers

to these strange women

Their rainbow claws grab each item I pass out

without seeing me

Invisible, I glance down

at the colorful flyers

I see on the front

my shirtless father dressed

in green & black motorcycling gear

On the top of the flyer

The headline says

Dark Angel’s Big Showcase

227 East Market Street,

Drinks Free

for the Ladies.