CityBeat’s Living Out Loud – Cincinnati Blog

{September 3, 2006}   Peacock Eye

in summer my dad still wore a hat

one of those flat caps

it had a union button with crossed sneers pinned to the side and feathers eyes of a peacock

one summer day we took a ride to get gas so happy to take the drive even for a round trip to the gas station

me and him

when we arrived he filled up his tank then he filled up his can and paid in cash

on my side the car door opened it was my door it was my body and on my lap he plunked the gas can down

my hands quickly held it there

we drove home in that little fiat

as fumes that wonderful fragrance of what makes men go mad began to seep out of the loose gas cap

his car was a fiat white small square most talked about car on the block four speed clutch


and when he sifted gears the can would shake and out of the loose cap the fuel dripped soaking my shirt turning my belly button into a storage tank

it burned like cold iron my hands reacted to save me to remove the dripping heat and when I did he yelled and screamed

“What the fuck you doing? Keep it on your lap!”

I was going to tell you how… but now I think it better to not mention…

the pain of not listening to the pain I was in

I traveled home in tears again arguing with him through my mind’s peacock eye

my hands holding the gas can as it dripped on my lap

Peter Deane


Mike says:

Wow. Soooooooooooooooo bad.

don says:

i do sort of like the smell of gasoline

I like the smell of gasoline too. wierd.

Sucks about your dad. I mean the horrifying idiocy of putting a can of gasoline on a kid’s lap! Even if it wasn’t leaking!

I can relate to the feeling, though. I wish I had a dime for every special moment that started out with me just happy to be in his presence, and ended with me in tears.

Yep, quality time with Dad.

Jeff- or-ly says:

I think Peter smelled a little too much of that gas. It explains a lot.

Jim Stanton says:

I think sometimes its the small mistakes we make with our kids that seem to stick with them longer. I’m sure your father meant well with you just holding the gasoline can – but it went wrong and his response wasn’t good.

Sometimes I wonder about the small mistakes I’m making with my kids. I just tell myself I’m doing the best I can.

Heather says:

Jim: Yeah, I wonder about that with my kids as well.

But you know, my mom and step-dad made mistakes too, and none of thier mistakes have stuck with me in the same way as my father’s. Most of the things they did that seemed like a big deal at the time, I can look back now and see that they really did mean well, or I can at least understand their motivations. I can’t say the same thing about my dad.

John says:

Good thought – bad poem.

That one was part of my Letters to Larry collection

You can buy the book here…

This link is a better one… more info and larger view of cover preview…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

et cetera
%d bloggers like this: