Father’s Day

Fathers should be an inspiration
Until the day they die

Or so I say

But I say a lot

Mostly
And only
Inside
Where it remains
Unreal

And

With this admission
I’ve manifested another
Disappointment
For me

Keep it inside is what my
Dad taught
Down deep inside
Where it’ll
Atrophy
Rot

And

Mercifully

Disintegrate

 

There were micrograins of truth sprinkled amid his macroreserves of hokum

 

‘If your uncertainties and fears
Don’t wither and deflate,’ he’d say
‘Bear your crosses wear your crosses
And channel your
Flourishing disease
Into work’
He’d say

‘Because someone has to
Bring home the bacon’
The bacon is important he taught me
The bacon is life he taught me
I found out much later
That it can only
Be traded for an approximation
Of life

A little bit of your skin
For a lot of my own

Seems fair

I’ve approximated a life

Fair is nowhere

My father is boneless, skinless

My father never warned me
About how it would feel, though
This stuffing and jamming and ramming
My unpleasant emotions
My ambiguous feelings
Ouroboros style
Back into my piles

But, he never gained an understanding of anything
Let alone how his
Own process
Now
My process
Was the virus condemning
Our own gestalt

This was something

I had to find out

On my own

20181125_163744
Reflective Self-Portrait  digital photo manipulation, 2018 copyright BHE
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