explaining the death of two icons to my son

In one day two icons are gone

I tell my son – the king of pop

and the queen of the pinup.


We stop for gas and I talk

to a lady filling up and

almost make her cry by reminding

her of song titles and

the single sequined glove.


I give her my copy of a “Best of” CD

I have in my car and tell her to play

#5 on her way home.


I promise her it will become her favorite

song from when he was really little

and beat James Brown at being James Brown –

before the moonwalk or the fun house mirrors –

when his voice was full of the same

fear and hunger that we all feel

in being little and wanting desperately

to understand love.


As we drive away my son asks me why I spoke

to a stranger and why I’d give her my disc.

I tell him I can get another copy, but that the lady

really needed to hear a good thing from her past

and that I’d show him my Farrah poster later.


Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2009. All rights reserved.


After Father’s Day

I helped my sons

a few weeks ago

make a card with

flowers cut from

colorful construction

paper and peppered

with pictures of

them being cute

as babies can be.


Today is supposed

to be my day

and I expect to

be doing many

more things to

show them how to

be good boys and

maybe great men.


There is no sunshine

again but the rain

has taken a break

when we go out

my boys and me

and start blowing

bubbles that last a

mighty long time.


We laugh when

they burst and marvel

at how big some get.

The little one likes

the dancing colors

on the skins,

the older one loves

splitting them in half.


A few bubbles dare

to land on the evergreens

that border our

house and stay long

enough for us to take

pictures that will

make great Christmas

cards this year.


Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2009. All rights reserved.