-on the beat with Joe the cop in '53-

walking with my father around Columbus Park

but outside the fence on a Sunday morning after mass
at the church where I was absolved of sin the day before,

we ran into Joe the cop, and my father and Joe stopped to talk for awhile.

Joe was in his uniform, navy blue with silvery
smears in ironing sheen from last night's board.

Joe was walking the beat around the neighborhood

and for me it was a rare cop sighting close-up at the right field corner

and while they talked I was eager to express an innocence of any wrong doing.

“uhh...we just went to church”.

It didn't matter to me what it was they were talking about

and I've noticed Joe on occasion, walking around.

he wasn't an afternoon fixture in the parlor like the Petrucci’s,

or the wacky Nazzoné clan, or the always anticipated paternal

aunts, branching outward from my father's bough of the tree.

could be they called him “Joe the cop” in a calculated friendliness

so they’d get a break at the overdue meters downtown.

"ya know Joe the cop? he's a pal o' mine."

in about 10 years it would also be to my advantage:

"oh, was I speeding, sir? umm..my ol'man knew Joe the cop!"

I'll bet they all knew "Joe the cop."