We had goldfish and they circled around and around
In the bowl on the table near the heavy drapes
Covering the picture window and
My mother, always smiling, wanting us all
To be happy, told me, "be happy Henry!"
And she was right: it's better to be happy if you
Can
But my father continued to beat her and me several times a week
While
Raging inside his 6-foot-two frame because he couldn't
Understand what was attacking him from within
My mother, poor fish
Wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a
Week, telling me to be happy: "Henry, smile!
Why don't you ever smile?"
And then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the
Saddest smile I ever saw
One day the goldfish died, all five of them
They floated on the water, on their sides, their
Eyes still open
And when my father got home he threw them to the cat
There on the kitchen floor and we watched as my mother
Smiled