I Make No Apologies

You are downstairs,

making lunch

But my anger is here,

sitting on top of the nail

you drove into our wall,

so reckless and with no regard

for the aging plaster

and with no regard for me

when you serve pasta

and the portion is enormous

I joke you are trying to kill me

and together we laugh

I make no apologies for flab,

for the need for quiet,

how obviously my head needs a rest,

and yet I do not forgive

how everyone said rest when the baby rests

let the house dissolve into mess

I wanted to chart graphs

and plot my lines of descent

Things have gathered around me,

a spool of bespoke twine

my diploma

a map

I thought about going back to school

Just so I could caption a photo with dad

as Drs. Lyalin

Not so, I’m going to work

With my coffee and eyes that water

at the slightest hint of discontent

I make no apologies for that

Dad Flew to Canada

Some people migrate

by boat and wash up

to shore, fresh shells

the sun, a quiet ambassador

Some people climb

into trucks, through the woods

dragging the memory of a bed,

branches and leaves

A ball eclipses the sun, the stream

keeps running

It is still possible to navigate

with the stars, to move through

a desert toward a light,

Moses becoming a mist

walking out of the frame,

into a sacred sleep or not

To eat or not, we wait on rocks

covered in insects and wings

Years later, we are naturalized

Which means we are gardens led to pasture

We are somewhat neutralized,

we float like ions

repeat our last names at every turn

We are alive and watchful with passports

On this day it is written,

and on this day it is sealed

A child washes ashore

The world shrinks

Contracts to take,

the impossible back in

Going back,

he puts on his sneakers

a shirt, he shrinks a size,

begins to crawl,

there is a smile,

and rolling over on a rug,

kaleidoscopic thread, spit,

he turns

he is the size of a watermelon,

a cantaloupe, a rutabaga, a lime

a prune, a blueberry

He is in the water, it is dark

Is God here, we move through the

woods, we keep moving

Just particles at this point,

pushing further north