< 3

Liking your things

was a reminder that I’m still here

it was never about the succulent you saw

or exotic scone you ate

I couldn’t call you

nobody calls anybody they kind of know

but what if every time

I liked your things I called you instead

to say, hey, I like that rainbow mountain with the Jesus quotes

the one that promises salvation

or when you saw your aunt and her illegal bird

in a warm tropical world with an esoteric hashtag

that signaled

you were coming back home from another home

There’s too much to know

what to like about you

Just whatever circumnavigates

in a whir pool timeline of attention war

like the Salton Sea

Another time you were on a ferry on Lake Ashi

with so many school children

there was no hashtag for that

just tiny pastel hats and legs and happiness against the fog

likable because you weren’t there

and where’ve you been since the Sunday before last

Kill all filtered popularites

Two Star Resort

Something about the 5″ X 9″ blue and white oval floaties

resting like rosary beads in the swimming pool

was basically my dad. Only I can know things

that are basically my dad.

When we floated in the pool

was basically once my dad

Chlorine kills bad things, you said,

that’s why pools are

meant to be shared to be public

My dad is basically public

accessible in the things everyone uses around here

at this two­star resort

except for maybe the shuffle board

which aren’t really a thing in the Philippines

just all kinds of Virgin Marys and Holy Ghosts

And we are basically inside of everything

and my dad is the interior and exterior

So what do these things matter

except for this holy water we are swimming in

and round light projecting

an unidentifiable hue of blue

We run as fast as we can until we tire

& in this screen is a kind of karaoke

where my dad returns to pray

where I can hear him loud and bright