aayoungwho
better understands
than the child
or spouse
of a writer
the way someone can exist
in a state of absence
yet be seated in the next room
perhaps if i worked downtown
left everyday in a nursing uniform
or struck out at 3 a.m.
in my old mortician’s black suit
my vocation
wouldn’t seem so intrusive
i should install a barber’s pole
outside my office door
wear a leather apron
scream show tunes
and keep jars of leeches
oh hell tonight
i am truly my father’s daughter
as much as you’ve hurt me
and still seeking your approval
despite your love requiring sedatives
and prayer chains
i’ll say this once
so you better fucking listen
i know what villainy you’re capable of
and what transgressions you are not
you’ve been strung up wrongly
for once
this is a pyre you don’t deserve
lord how can it be
my heart is
defending you again
somewhere mick jagger is humming bitch
and i’m buying a forgiving round
for your hanging committee
if we are receptive to the mechanism
wisdom begins to define us
and the parameters we function within
as we age
i cannot deny
your existence is all together unlikely
a defiant day lily insisting upon rising above
the early spring snow
i’ve learned to pay no attention
as pablo’s smoke rises beneath my window
but there you are
orange crush inevitable
our eyes full of unwritten poems
the feel of your suit
a sensation insisting
there are things i should know