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Dad Is Dead

(At Apogee)

Morning snow in New York City
Halfway across the Brooklyn Bridge
I heard a song like angel fire
Aching to rejoice
Through choking lung
And broken tongue
Rang my mother's voice
She said:

Son come soon
We need you now
Dad is dead
Gone to stone
The genius bone
He had in his head

Burning wet like serpent mercury
Retrograde to my desire
Aboard a plane to Los Angeles
Ferried way back home
The sacred place
The safe embrace
I thought of mom all alone
She said:

Your way is God
Mine is an abstract language
Sweet Jesus be my parachute
Father and Son
Wholly coasting in symphony
Partake of forgiven fruit

My father lived in little niches
Dreaming of another shore
He savored coffee and cigarettes
As Eucharist cuisine
Locust spread
On honeyed bread
To wash his soul clean

Home to stay in California
Manifesting destiny
I'll probably bury mother next
Across the continent
Then sit in awe
And fulfill the law
My father sent