Tommy – his first – had been best:
eight feet in one minute and forty-five seconds.
At one and a half, it's outstanding.
His second baby, Jessica, had two left feet.
She fell off after only
ten seconds of ridiculous monkey walk.
Now, he had faith in little Jerry, Jr.:
good ankles, slender for his age, steady eyes,
oblivious to heights.
A year and a half on the day.
He picked him up from the crib
and carried him to the balcony
(he had his mother's eyes),
and stood him up
on the foot-wide railing.
"Hmm. Good balance, all right!
This high up wind speed should be
about thirty miles per hour
out of Northwest."
He peeked over,
eighty storeys down – no bystanders,
"That's good."
And he let his son
stand on his own.
Eager, the man darted
to the other end of the railing:
"Come on, little Jerry, do it for Daddy!
Only ten feet, my boy.
Let's go for the record!"
YOU ARE READING
The Competitive Edge: A Collection of Poems
PoetryA collection of urban poems for the corporate culture warriors out there, joyfully imploding day in day out, climbing the slippery ladder of success. Bitter-sweet sarcasms , with occasional escapism, to take your mind off work and sabotage it simult...
