THE YEAR I TURNED INTO MY FATHER
Sublunary Review
Caught myself:
judging someone for not
keeping up maintenance on their car
For not:
cross-checking prices
letting the meat defrost
in the fridge, overnight
letting it marinate
scraping down the grates
and for CHRIST SAKE—
indirect heat
I see my:
slouches
stifled chortles
slippers dragging—
soft words, I hear
after they’ve been excavated
like fossils
my voice a pitch higher
but only, for the cat
I’m:
drinking beer at midnight
tracking packages &
doing research—
I need answers on how
to strip a wood table without
vaporizing my lungs
the quiet makes time
fold in on itself
I’m sixteen & parenting can’t be so bad
doing:
research
lighting the charcoal &
smoking cigars on the deck
tiny practices that
excavate the soft words
you’re doing the work, kid.