Fake Knees - Dads

The tiniest gap

in between

your two front teeth

and your fake knees

whistling through the pain

to accomodate

a kid who doesn’t have

the time of day

and one who has to

keep moving away.

What can I say?

I’m purposely putting life in the way.

Thank you for

your gently worn

shirts we

slept with

underneath our nose.

I’m on a red eye crying about

a bunch of fucking clothes.

How much time

did I waste

on people who eventually left?

While you were always there waiting,

with your coffee breath,

with your shitty eyes,

and your deep chest,

and your cracked skin hands

that held the best,

you always knew the rest,

you know the rest.

I’m waiting for you to get better,

even if it means nights spent in the outpatient center.