you might have a puppet

dad & i used to make puppets
from the sleeves of his old shirts 
but now we just talk through them
he holds up a dragon in one hand
& a rabbit in the other
i choose the crow & the turtle
for myself
we hold them up
sit at a diner booth in town
make them talk to each other 
dragons don't like crows 
the crow would smoke cigars if 
we'd let him
it's more common than you notice
people bringing their puppets along
all day
you're probably a polite person 
so you just go along with it
i'm not so much polite 
as i am ready to accept 
the terms of a situation 
the waitress today 
also has a puppet
a goat with a tuft 
of hair on the chin
we order & i can't decide
if i should be looking
at the puppet's eyes or hers
i choose the puppet
because it's the one talking
the crow is also the one talking
the turtle doesn't talk
just makes realistic movements 
i always go places with dad
with something i want to talk 
to him about but end up
giving in to what the puppets 
want to talk about
which is almost always 
the weather or what time we got up
that morning 
i let the crow talk about 
cloud formations
dad's rabbit says he loves me
& nods his head 
dad's rabbit picks up
a fork & feed him 
triangles of his club sandwich
getting crumbs on his fur
dad's dragon sits & stares
at me sometimes
& i stare back at its glassy eyes
there's something judgmental there 
like he's waiting for me 
to slip up
& talk with my own mouth
i narrow my gaze 
as if to say that won't happen
i worked hard to talk 
with puppets
everyone works hard 
to talk with puppets
you might have a puppet &
not even know it
dad doesn't
he thinks he has two free hands
he drives with the puppets on
the puppets kiss my cheeks 
when we leave
their cool glass noses
on my skin
my puppets love his puppets
just like between them all
i love him 
& his hands buried 
inside animals 
& my hands buried inside animals 
at home i take them off
look at my own hands
put the puppets back
on before going back out