He has always been thereSailor tongued superheropockets full of dirty jokesEach step of his was fourto little scrambling feetMy progress tethered to a pinkyWait, Daddy Powder kegs of emotionI didn’t understandwhere it came from, thenPunching holes in wallsHis motor always runningnever out of gasWait, Daddy An industry of creation, explorationThe salvation of artifactsin careful orderPatientContinue reading “Dad”
Tag Archives: stroke
After
He has seen things
he wants to tell us but
the words won’t come
they get hung up on the way out
snagged on the bits of wire
holding his thinker together
The Poetry Patio 