Dad's Beard

We'd know
When Dad
Would grow
The beard

Our father never forgot to shave
When he let his beard grow
It was a distinct choice
An admission

That he just
Didn't give
A fuck
Anymore

It meant a return to silent breakfast tables
And dinners with nothing
But the sound of the next door neighbors
Laughing, laughing at their kids
Telling stories

The same stories we had
Because we went to the same schools
And had the same foibles

But we did not
Have the same father

Mom wouldn't panic
Not at all, not at all

She could get him up out of bed
She could get him to eat
She could even cajole him
Into going to work everyday

But shaving that beard
Was beyond her capabilities

He liked that beard
Like he liked the silence
And the lights off
And the tv glaring at us
As they walked through the living room
On our way to bed

Sometimes we'd have dreams
Of erasing that beard off his face
Like that man with magnetic mustache
That they sell in the cheap section
Of the toy store

We'd take away the beard
And maneuver a magnetic smile
Onto our father's face

It was possible
It was altogether possible

But then we'd wake up
And he'd still be in that recliner
Watching that tv
Unaware that it was now nothing but static
The cable station he'd been taking in
Switched over to informercials
And then to nothing

Watching, watching
Watching, watching
Watching, watching

School for us
Work for Mom
None for him, thanks

He'd called out sick today

His boss would get concerned
When he heard my mom's voice
He was a kind man
And all he had to ask was--

'When was the last time he shaved?'

A strange thing
For a beard to be an omen
A white flag

Some men look good with beards
But our father was not one of him

It simply made him look sloppy
And nasty
And ominous
And pale

One time we tried to shave off the beard
Believing it to be the anchor holding down his ship
In some dark water off a brighter coast

And we could bring in his ship
If we shaved off that beard

He grabbed the hand
Before the blade
Could grace his chin

And he looked at us
And held the hand right where it was
The blade dipped a little
Aiming at his Adam's apple

He let go of the hand
And closed his eyes
And seemed to be waiting

But we knew he wasn't waiting
For the shave

We knew he was waiting
And hoping
We could save him
In some other way