820

at the bottom of the stairs
at your daddy’s house
you find your shoes
old leather bucks
with a sole coming off
the right heel

your grandfather smells like grass
he never asks where you’ve been
when you’re gone all day
he pulls you on his lap
it’s the same man as it was
last year

your momma fights the futility
of living a decent life
but she’s tried to raise you well
this she says in your most
heated argument in the kitchen

you don’t know what it means
to be alive and healthy
in this feverish state
you just try another month
I don’t blame you

one day
the evenings will grow shorter
you will lose your breath
loving for your partner

I don’t know what to tell you
I’m trying hard too

let’s rest our eyes
we’ll figure it out in the morning