Isn't it funny how
they always want money
the smell of wet wool
and cigarette butts
a radical and revolting figure
he mumbled
as if drunk or dense
when all at once
I heard each word
of every language ever spoken
past or present
he said to me that
that was his name
I gave him money
and opened up my mouth to speak
for the very first time
nothing came out
he smiled
a proud and toothless smile
as if I'd said
Dad, I want to be just like you
when I grow up
I think I loved him then
or he loved me
or both
or not
but love was there.
Steven Silent Wolf
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/5-pentecost/