All-American

So,
says my dad the way he does.
So,
how do you get to the fair?
"Practice, practice, practice," I joke
like he did, when as a child I asked,
How do you get ahead?
I think you take 680
or 580
or both
to which he responds,
There are too many 80s around here.

The plan is to have an All-American day
with my alt-American dad
wearing my Captain America hat
him in an old shirt with The Clash
(I'm not sure he's ever heard The Clash)
wearing this season's Immigrant Hipster
hoping we pass for patriotic.

This is summer - for me, at least.
Fairs and farmyards
piglets and pickles filled with bacon and Nutella
but for my father I wonder
if farmwork reminds him of revolution
of working with his hands
of Work Visas and sponsors
of a family separated by a sea.

Now here we are, a moment away
from monster truck racing
as the speakers tell us to stand and stay
standing for America and America
and America.