Oh, Father
Oh, Itay what made you
blow
your cigar smoke over that red feathered rooster
and washed it with gin tonic?
Will that make him brave to defeat his foe?
Which poet inspired you
to rhyme
on Sunday morn, delighting those surround you,
making them listen, again and again?
To which god you belong
and made you smile everyday, not worrying
the cares of the day?
Tell me…who designed you
and made me a replica?
I love you, Itay!
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