Sophia's Father's Eyes 1969 Poem by Terry Collett

Mama buzzes
about the kuchnia
like a bad tempered bee,

Ojciec sits in the lounge
staring at you
then back at his newspaper
then at you again,

you look at him
sitting there
as if he wished to know
each aspect of your mind
your thoughts,

a radio pushes out
Polish music,

you try to keep
thoughts of Benny
from your mind
in case your father
reads your mind,

does he go to Mass
this boy?
Your father asks in Polish
I do not see him there,

you gaze at your father
trying to wash your mind
of hints of Benny,

he goes to the late Mass
on Saturday you reply in Polish,

he looks at you
his eyes peering
dark eyes
as if they could
drink you in,

you push the image
of you and Benny
having sex on Mr Cutt's bed
out of your mind
but it lingers there stubbornly
the single bed
moving beneath you
the springs tingling
the curtains drawn
allowing only a slit
of light to enter

Father(Ojciec)
flicks the newspaper
and shuts you out,

Mama in the kuchnia still
her voice mumbling in Polish,

Benny lay
between your thighs
avoiding
your father's eyes.