Father’s Day Digression



Trapped in the myth of chromosomes, dancing in silent doubt as he considers American fathers.

I watch the look in his eye, seeing it form like frost on glass.

I taste the question on his tongue, bittersweet like blood.

No time.

There was never any time.

I slam myself up against the truth, frantic, screaming for an answer.

Too late, so soon, he breaks the silence.

“Why don’t you say kaddish?”


All the time in the world.


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