MY FATHER FIGHTS HIS SHADOW

Disturbed by vodka
He wishes there was medicine
Dizzy
He pokes years
Delivers strange ideas
Delivers cold sandwich
We squander errant dream
Grow fat in a wastrel
Father stretches
Hands shaking
Blunt instruments
Praying
Even victory isn’t victory
Climate means breathing
Status means termination due
Imminence
Like an almost king
Hope transfer in a punk environment
Zealous emergence in an emergency
My father in a doubling
Inheritance with blessing
There’s winds that feel like ghosts
There’s messages waiting for ink.