When you grown now
so you can hear your father.
Here he is building you a shelf.
Here he is comparing rear view mirrors
he found on eBay. Here, he has already
assessed the prices of every wind
chime in the city because on Sunday
you mentioned you're in the market for
one. Your dryer doesn't work, now
he is describing how dryers are supposed
to work. How your brakes work. How
grit works. How a man who will
never change works so
how you should work.
Here is his garage, full of honest things for sale
because he is sorry or so you will finally
leave the knock off lover behind, same thing.
We don't say it. But
when there are a lot of places to sit
I sit next to him. And when nothing
is broken I believe he believes
it's broken and he can fix it.
Here I am, nearby
holding parts in my hand for him.
Today, the sound of my
new raincoat moving
is the sound of his
When I turn I hear him
turning, his boat swelling
on the pacific, soft
as he twists
to see me.
I didn't know
if I wanted the frozen pot pie
but I knew I wanted to receive it so
I said oh that sounds good.
I can still hear him opening it