KATZENBAUM
Katzenbaum
Mr. Katzenbaum
That was his name
Owner/mananger of a Snowbird
Trailer park
In deep South Tex
Where my father managed
A crew of jardineros
Who tended to the landscaping
and the upkeep of the park
Home on Christmas break
From a Master's plan
In a Midwest school
Dad called for me
to his work
And I went
He met me there
In muddy rubber boots
Mud-splattered pants
And shovel in his hand
To met his boss
This Katzenbaum
This Mr. Katzenbaum
To you
"Dile que te vas a recibir
Con una maestria," he said.
And I could tell,
That he was proud as punch
"So you're his son?," he asked
This Katzenbaum
"Yes, sir," I had replied in turn
"And getting a Master's degree
In Madison?," he asked.
"That's right," I said.
"Are you a Badger, too?"
"South of Milwaukee,' he had replied.
"Pleasure to meet you," I answered then,
And shook his hand.
Then, in a lower voice and to the side he asked:
"And you still claim him?",
Nodding slightly toward my dad.
"Of course I do," I said. "Why shouldn't I?
He's is my dad."
"Oh," said Katzenbaum,
This Katzenbaum
And turned, and walked away.