Poem of the day: If My Dad Was Jackson Browne

If my dad was Jackson Browne

I can’t be sure how I’d react

I’d like to think I’d take it well

And remember to call him regularly

But maybe I’d be distant and neglectful

And fail to even feign interest in his news about the new album

Maybe I’d resent him

Maybe I’d be shocked to find out

That my dad was The Pretender

But if Jackson Browne was my dad

I’d have probably always known

Because in all likelihood he’d have raised me from birth

And not had me adopted only to reconcile awkwardly with me decades later

If my dad was Jackson Browne

He might teach me the guitar

Then I’d have the gift of music to keep me company

When I got sad or lonely

But then, listening to the music of Jackson Browne would lose much of its appeal

Because how could I listen to any of his bittersweet tunes

Without wondering, was it I, his only son, who made him so melancholy and verbose?

Is it my fault he’s running on empty?

If Jackson Browne was my dad

I’d be plagued by self-doubt

But also I’d be terribly rich

So it wouldn’t be that bad

Eh