My Papa’s Waltz
BY
T H E O D O R E R O E TH K E
The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy; His father drinks so much is can intoxicate a
kid. Overwhelming for a kid
But I hung on like death: Aggressor role for the kid, cannot shake off
Such waltzing was not easy. Metaphor, trying not to anger him, doing
everything in his power to please him. Joyous
We romped until the pans Having fun, being a kid, playing
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother’s countenance She knew what was going to happen next, was
worried for her kid, cannot stop what was going to happen next
Could not unfrown itself. May not be domestic violence
The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle; Battered, constant abuse, bruises never go
away
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle. Scrape not bruised
You beat time on my head Time out? But physical punishment
With a palm caked hard by dirt, Labour, persona acknowledge of his
father’s hard work, waltzing around with his children. He’s drunk and he
want to still spend time with his children.
Then waltzed me off to bed Drunk, cannot walk straight, literally meaning
here.
Still clinging to your shirt. Pleading with his father. Putting his kid to sleep.
Alcoholism fuelling domestic violence. Lighter sense of the situation.
Capitalizes the unreliability of the persona. Unreliability of childhood
memory