I haven't submitted any poetry anywhere this season (or at all,
honestly, but lets ignore that for now). I would post it on here
or a similar gopherspot, but most mags n' journals wont publish
you if you have your work previously published anywhere else,
including online, including (I assume) on a pubnix with ~1700
members, any ~128 online at any time. That said I did submit 5 to
the zine on here, so expect that when Issue 3 drops.
Although, I do have a lot of poems I doubt I will ever submit
somewhere, so it probably won't hurt to put them here. Heres one I
have actually been working on for a while.
As a preface, its about my dad, who was (still is?) an AA member.
Its a haiku because thats what it was at first.
*
Bronze Chip
Hi I'm Steve. Hi Steve.
It's been 12 months since we spoke.
One day at a time.
*
Probably my favorite William Carlos Williams quote is from a
lecture he gave at Harvard (i think): "They say you should never
explain a poem, but I find it helps nevertheless." So yeah I cut
off communication with my dad at the start of 2018. My parents
divorced when I was 7, and surprise surprise that leaves a couple
o' scars on a kids mind. I went to a theapist back in 2012-2013
and thats one thing that we ended up working on. I was reluctant
then but I tried to talk to him to get a conversation going, but
then I didn't want to, so I stopped answering his calls. And then
one time he left a very angry voicemail which I think still
bothers me, a lot when I think about it...
Anyway at my mom's funeral (2015) I already hadn't seen him in
like... well I don't remember it must have been less than 7 but
more than 1 year. Anyway so I'm there at this funeral barely
keeping anything together having already overcome a hungover
discussion with the funeral director three days prior and buying a
black suit which when I think about it now who the fuck would have
cared and anyhow I'm there on forty edges and I see this man
appear and it is too long before I recognize him and I leave
around the backway to collect myself.
Motherfucker (ha) cornered me in the hallway of what is now my
house later, before I had started working hard on my second
worst-ever-hangover-of-all-time of the week though I am sure I at
least had had a beer by then. I mentioned he was/is a member of AA
(so was my mom) and I will tell ya, I could not have given less of
a fug.
Anyway.
Last year I got tired getting an anxiety attack every birthday and
christmas or bloody whenever, seeing his name show up on caller
id. I wouldn't even pick up. Just the thought of him leaving that
pointless voicemail or sending a subtext of "please acknowledge
that i am your father and that i matter for that reason" was
enough to fuck up my day.
And I don't need that. I don't need a father anymore. I don't need
him.
Hence the poem.
*
This turned out to be much longer than I intended, but this phlog
is called "feels" and thats what this is so yeah.
