when i was born
my mother said
it felt as if a new mathematical state had come into being
       new creature.
              new possibilities
              
when my grandfather died
my mother said
it felt the same- as she sat in that old room, his spirit slipping into a new form
       old creature
              new possibilities

i remember crying
asking him to stop
as he held me down
face in a pillow
some people call this
*******
probably because
they know
men are dogs

cigarette butts on the ash tray.
a bouquet of white roses
neatly tied together with a note
stuck that read, sorry in a sloppy
cursive way. resting on the
on the chair like it was given
couple of hours ago. paintings of
their love hung on cream colored walls.