Listen kid, Max’s father says,
All a broad wants is babies,
The rest is incidental, have a

Good look at them, see how
They’re built, they’re built
For breeding kids, nature’s

One concern the survival of
The species. Max looks at his
Father’s cigar that wags as

He talks, the smoke going up
In short bursts. And kid, don’t
Let them fool you with all that

Love talk, it’s just their yak to
Keep you sweet, and they want
Guys to get all gooey eyed when

The babies are around and expect
The dough handing to them to
Keep the kids, to keep them on

The way to growing up. Max nods
And remembers his mother yelling
At his father not to wake the baby,

You’re too heavy footed, you talk
Too loud, and that cigar smoke it’s
Everywhere. And kid, whatever you

Do don’t settle down too soon,
Don’t get trapped in the spidery web
Of a broad’s charms, don’t get too

Serious too soon, kid, hold out a little,
Run the field, find the cheap dames,
Give the serious motherly types the

Wide berth. Max blows a huge bubble
With his gum, his father’s words take
Wing around his ears like black bats

In evening flight. And kid, don’t let
Them tame you with their words and
Ways or haul you in with lines of woe and

Love needs; hold out as long as you can,
Don’t be like the rest of the wimps, be like
Your old man. Max nods and puts on his

Steely stare as his father drives off in his car.
When Max grows up, he wants to smoke a cigar.