Eve Rounds

should.

dark morning darkness

woke up crying

i now embrace the word

should.

it’s a simple truth.

my dad should be with me on my             wedding day

escorting my mom and i

trusting my choice and chosen

raising his tumbler full of bubbly

making jokes

a few landing but most

drifting

which of course makes them funny

swaying clumsily to the song that would have made him cry

hugging kissing me goodnight

seeing him the next day

should

fucking should.

IMG_2422

but ok but

write some poems that i can give him ok (but they’ll all be about the hims) good idea bad idea no good twinning and losing

a 5 7 5 for e

peering through thick glass your back to me is waiting any news at all? running down broad steps into your brotherly arms crying without breath!

incircles

is it the ticking of the third hand or the faucet dripping onto discount bulk blueberries both measuring time “going in circles” as he would

a poem about you for you (and you)

you are your own though your temperament reminds me of him your head is more ripe mango while his was more soft plum my love

i don’t even know

how long it’s been. haven’t been counting days haven’t counted backwards on the calendar. haven’t bothered to reread my own words. haven’t been missing you

the five senses

your blue eyes and crooked lippy smile which i inherited that tiny soft bristle brush for your basically bald head the white corvette a campfire cards