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a poetry blog

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Like a Windchime Inside













 
I put the phone on your side of the bed
you thought I was predicting your father's death
mistook a letter from my mom
for one from your dad
said what was SHE going to do with some
corpse in the house?

you play tennis with grace and placement
I serve like your old man
and trap the ball with my racket
two best of fives
plus some

a man who couldn't command
and wasn't trained
didn't know how to study
properly
and liked junk and was still trying to
pawn it
who vacuumed the street
to get it clear of dirt

bracing for the punch
expecting me to start yelling

instead I said
how he's probably more dangerous
now than ever

it's wrong to lay into the dying

Dad, I'm
not upset at you anymore
for not having what I needed

but I just don't want
what you got now

Your email said simply
"Has something changed?"

asterisk:
order flowers


2011

2 comments:

  1. I like this. I like the conversation with the dad part. Sounds like acceptance to me. Was thinking i think things like that...but don't necessarily say them. Now thinking I want a bumper sticker. :D

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  2. My partner's problems bring out similar things in myself, in this case bringing the old scores up to the present, seeing them there in their old soreness, needing nothing more from them at the time and grateful for it.

    And I like that, I want a bumer sticker too: "Has something changed?" :)

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