Servant from the cellar

My father
twisted the heads of doves
and watched ballgames
to quench his war fetish-
sometimes
at
the
same
time-
this is how he met my mother.

My mother's father's
lunchbox
contains black,
plastic wrapped
bourbon,
maraca sounding
cough pills,
menthol cigarettes
and an
inhaler.
He dreams of painting
like his
beautiful,
dead
mother.