to grow up like this

and the lump is a throat

is a life

who will say that one should never strain their neck

for muscles connect to bone

and bone connects to milk

and you can be powerful son

you can block out the sky if you drink

enough of that tall tale

night blankets the room in confidence

a secret shared between two lovers

the attendants say something outside

that shakes the building out of its still dream

i hold my dad’s little hand

just as i did as a child

and though i didn’t know it then

he was one too

i try to look at him now

eyes like sloppy fish drowning in this black air

hair falling out against a forgettable autumn

but in this chair in this room in this terrible tiny place

it hurts my neck

later

a passerby tells me

that i should get it checked out

*

above is from a book of poetry i’ve written, entitled “a mess of you everywhere inside of me“.

it is for you. it is about you. it will tell you how to be you again. get a copy here: https://goo.gl/zsyqVD