Over chatter of starlings and grackles,
you hear your father’s voice,
confident and constant as bee hum
in the backyard of your thoughts.
I have seen that I must
Confess to ignorance
I do not know you, although
I have loved you twenty years
The lifting of your lashes
Fat God
How can you mean to satisfy us by hurling down your bait
love writhing on a hook and snagged in our guts