I wake up in the morning

And think

People are alive

Making things, children

And apps, they

Are running to one

Another and then my arm

Falls asleep.

Most of the men

Who did not exactly know

They were my father

Are dead

And so

My father keeps

dissolving.

Tonight

Both my sons are sleeping

At their mom’s apartment.

I can’t always feel

My legs

But I don’t want to tell

Anyone. I’m so afraid

Of everything.

When I called Mary

To ask her how Ralph died

I ended up calling Mary

To tell her that Ralph died.

I think I can pretend

To be a person for

Maybe only a few more years.

And after that,

The moon is just going to

Have to defend itself,

The shadows

In the tall grass are just

Going to have to learn

How to self-soothe.

My sons will just have

To learn something

About fathers

Who leave without knowing

They are leaving.

Whether I’m here,

Not being able to feel

My face,

Or not here and my face

Is just the light above the grass.