My father:
Big-bellied
Black hair
Stupid grin but
Can beat your *** in pool
Any ******* day,

Sent me a Youtube video
About preventing myself
From
******* myself.

I said,
I am his son,
In guilt,
In shame,
In what should I believe.

He told me,
It's not what I meant.
It's not
What I meant to send.
But a ****
Not matter that the ******
Is always the ******
No matter the man
Or the ****.

He said
I said
I love you

Because death, however
Irrelevant within the actual
Constructs of
Remembrance,
Still feels sentimental (a tribal
Feeling based on Geneology
that the GODS no longer care about)

Yet we write
Through it all
With one hand naked
And another lax
Limp **** naked
Flailing for soverignty