our kitchen tablegrandpa’s seagram’s-seven-crown amber glowtwo shots rang outhalf-shot poured for me just beyond an angel’s share he jumps up i fall down as he knuckle scrubs my buzz-cut headwith a baritone two-lane asphalt accenthe bellows“today we ride”                 i smile twelve in ‘sixty-fourmy lanky legs straddleblack leather saddlewe mount grandpa’s steel stallion king of motown                …