Denny At The Door
By khf
I peek through the café curtains
starched and ironed into cardboard by my own hands
Denny is at the door
Not that I call my father-in-law Denny
That privilege is reserved for men
of certain persuasions
The kind of men who
play poker, shades drawn
roar over soccer matches
and indulge in the drink--
plenty of drink, I’d say
Denny has never spoken to me directly
offered me a greeting
a smoke
or a word to the wise
such as
never show up
Uninvited. Unexpected. Unannounced.
in the middle of the day
in the middle of the week
when you know your daughter-in-law
is alone
and
Bang! Bang! Bang!
on the front door!
on the back door!
Will the doorknobs hold
under all your cranking and rattling?
Raising a fuss like that
Eliot Ness-breaking-and-entering fashion
Bang! Bang! Banging on the doors
demanding entry
in the gloom of that early winter afternoon
Oh… by the way…
I gasped when I spotted you
in your fedora and overcoat
An audible, hand-to-mouth gasp
like in a grade B, black and white movie--
an actual gasp
Lana Turner, Janet Leigh
film noire style
Then pressed my maternity top
with the tiny green flowers
into the wall
between the door and the window
shrinking
listening
to your banging
and rattling
Terrified that the locks will fail
A man does not show up
Uninvited. Unexpected. Unannounced.
on a woman’s doorstep
to bestow a gift
No…
A man shows up
on a women’s doorstep
Uninvited. Unexpected. Unannounced.
because he wants something
I am no stranger
to men
who lead with their underpants
Men who grunt
and mumble
and explode
when it suits them
and bang and rattle the gates
until the padlocks snap
in two
granting them
forced entry
Eliot Ness style
You will not be entering this house today,
Denny
I suspect
drink is involved
After all, it is Christmastime
Booze and sentiment
melt glaciers
that seclude
and protect
against messy entanglements
of tender emotions
allowing that damn human longing
for warmth
to leak out
into the light
Driving a man to
his daughter-in-law’s doorstep
Risking shame
disgrace…rejection
Exposing wounds and injuries
and that hidden soft spot where love aches
Suffering the indignity
of begging
for…
relief
from the bare-knuckle bruising
of isolation
on an aging heart--
from the pretense of Good Time Denny
molded for show
and the chilled anguish of Untouchable Dad
molded for defense
I do not know these things to be true
I am simply following the breadcrumbs
backwards
Trying to make sense
of this aberration
of this bizarre mad man on my doorstep
frightening me
Making a racket
My heart pumping terror
inside my chest
You are now just another one
in a long line
of manic man-boys
demanding what does not belong to them
Seeking to grab
what they never bothered to earn
through grace and kindness
You are scaring me
No, Denny
I will not open the door for you
Go away!
And do not come here again
like this
full of drink and regret
plagued with warm-hearth fantasies
Maybe…
follow the Christmas lights back
to your own heart
khf/11.17.22
By khf
I peek through the café curtains
starched and ironed into cardboard by my own hands
Denny is at the door
Not that I call my father-in-law Denny
That privilege is reserved for men
of certain persuasions
The kind of men who
play poker, shades drawn
roar over soccer matches
and indulge in the drink--
plenty of drink, I’d say
Denny has never spoken to me directly
offered me a greeting
a smoke
or a word to the wise
such as
never show up
Uninvited. Unexpected. Unannounced.
in the middle of the day
in the middle of the week
when you know your daughter-in-law
is alone
and
Bang! Bang! Bang!
on the front door!
on the back door!
Will the doorknobs hold
under all your cranking and rattling?
Raising a fuss like that
Eliot Ness-breaking-and-entering fashion
Bang! Bang! Banging on the doors
demanding entry
in the gloom of that early winter afternoon
Oh… by the way…
I gasped when I spotted you
in your fedora and overcoat
An audible, hand-to-mouth gasp
like in a grade B, black and white movie--
an actual gasp
Lana Turner, Janet Leigh
film noire style
Then pressed my maternity top
with the tiny green flowers
into the wall
between the door and the window
shrinking
listening
to your banging
and rattling
Terrified that the locks will fail
A man does not show up
Uninvited. Unexpected. Unannounced.
on a woman’s doorstep
to bestow a gift
No…
A man shows up
on a women’s doorstep
Uninvited. Unexpected. Unannounced.
because he wants something
I am no stranger
to men
who lead with their underpants
Men who grunt
and mumble
and explode
when it suits them
and bang and rattle the gates
until the padlocks snap
in two
granting them
forced entry
Eliot Ness style
You will not be entering this house today,
Denny
I suspect
drink is involved
After all, it is Christmastime
Booze and sentiment
melt glaciers
that seclude
and protect
against messy entanglements
of tender emotions
allowing that damn human longing
for warmth
to leak out
into the light
Driving a man to
his daughter-in-law’s doorstep
Risking shame
disgrace…rejection
Exposing wounds and injuries
and that hidden soft spot where love aches
Suffering the indignity
of begging
for…
relief
from the bare-knuckle bruising
of isolation
on an aging heart--
from the pretense of Good Time Denny
molded for show
and the chilled anguish of Untouchable Dad
molded for defense
I do not know these things to be true
I am simply following the breadcrumbs
backwards
Trying to make sense
of this aberration
of this bizarre mad man on my doorstep
frightening me
Making a racket
My heart pumping terror
inside my chest
You are now just another one
in a long line
of manic man-boys
demanding what does not belong to them
Seeking to grab
what they never bothered to earn
through grace and kindness
You are scaring me
No, Denny
I will not open the door for you
Go away!
And do not come here again
like this
full of drink and regret
plagued with warm-hearth fantasies
Maybe…
follow the Christmas lights back
to your own heart
khf/11.17.22
