Big Joe

easy
six two
huge head
barrel chest
pockmarked face
gravel voice
coffee breath
constant toothpick
banana like fingers
fifty-pound pinky ring
small-time Wiseguy
packing
a fourth-grade education
+ a big heart
always
I will remember
Uncle Joe
sitting there
troubled
angry
and confused
in his lap
I once
painfully announced:
“I wish I were dead . . . I wish I were dead”
to which he replied
bewildered
and wide eyed
his words
so simple
they indelibly remain
still
in
my
ears
to this day:
“But Johnny Boy . . . Ya got’cha whole life aheadaya.”