he tickled me with love
i imagine
behind his merciless
IBM grin
sadistic chuckle

my grandfather loved me
built me a swing
a wooden airplane
gave me a bicycle
a cape to wear
he taught me pong and pitfall

wielding a brush-broom
handlebar-moustache
a favorite game of his was giving raspberries
testing limits
his iron fingers
wringing squeals of laughter sour
under breathless ribs
tear-eyed begging fits

his old white t-shirt
too small to hide his plump
hairy belly,
i'd tickled him there once
poked him where my cousins pointed
giggling

when the kick came
i felt it in the heart
more than the back of my knee
bent from the sudden
sneering force

when i asked him
years later
for a book from his dying bookshelf
he joked with a growl
the last emphysemic sentence i remember
he said to me
you gonna bring it back when you're done?

i remember
the rules of the tickle game
and love him back
for his sarcasm
firecrack generosity




.