First there were things & then
there were other things—it was a time
of great specificity
you, my love, my jugular vein, were the rebel
were the Other Thing.
Never mind tornadoes, helicopters, & tomato paste.
Never mind that in the Army “Warrant Officer” means
you drive a helicopter.
In the Navy it means something
(You wouldn’t know this. You shouldn’t.)
To yoke, incongruously, desperate things together
has a long & varied, storied, buried history.
It has, my little monkey, a pedigree.
A symphony of men, turkey leg bits clinging to crispy beards,
adorned in lace & fringed (& cringed) brocade, penning
verses to be understood. They say. & curtsy.
& the ugliness of the ampersand implies an ugliness
in the user: of this I am guilty.
I also plead no contest to finding you more indispensable than the
Here, one point seven thousand miles away, it can be said.
(And the passive construction frees me from agency.)
Here, 1700 leagues from The Zoo. Here, 1700 times point six two kilometers
away from the lake, the effect of which makes snowmen quiver,
Here lies your daddy: once- (& twice- & thrice-) besotted, poorly read
occupying nothing. [silence calm breath]
You occupy with curls, with black eyes, with
Spanish, with your newfound skill of spelling
(O! and strike some o’ that up there, yes? Is trita et obvia, no?)
The day you came to town was perilous & I was gaunt.
The woman you call “mommy” was a dusky traffic flare.
I. Well, I slept after. I slept, waited for you to become.
2000 miles is very far through the snow.