Long Way Down — I Have No Memories

I HAVE NO MEMORIES

of my father.

Shawn always tried to get me to

remember things like Pop dressing up as Michael Jackson for Halloween and, after trick-or-treating,

riding us up and down on this elevator,

doing his best moonwalk but

not enough space to go nowhere, slamming into walls.

Shawn swore I laughed

so hard I farted,

stunk up the whole elevator, even peed myself.

I was only three.

And I don’t remember that.

I’ve always wanted to,

but I don’t.

I so don’t.