Parenthood

For my parents, with regret. For my children, with hope.
Honest to God my heart aches
When I see them trying.

—Jack Spicer

I.

Another year—
and your eyes
are still vacant
with hunger.
Your thimble
of memories seems
so heavy now—
it’s time I told you—
there are harder
things than
being lonely.

II.

When there was no one there
I learned that
no word is
more deceitful than
“honestly.”

III.

How was I supposed to tell you
38 that your bones
are actually made
of little bits of songs
that we used to listen to?
You’ll never know
that late at night
you become a CB radio
that I use to talk to myself.

IV.

When you speak
nothing is younger
than the next word—
or the word after that.

V.

You know—
—I had lungs once
deep in my chest,
hands—
on my wrists.

VI.

We were
so sure—