here's to a package of
Marlboro Reds
in the hands of
someone other than
the Marlboro Man
standing in
for those slack-jawed outlaws
my heroes now lack jaws
tongues
lungs

I swear it's been too long
since I inhaled manhood
The Great Darrell Winfield
rolled
packed
and filtered
into the only thing I know
that makes a man a man
the essence of
cowboy boots and farmer's tan
in every drag

see, I inhale my heroes
all the dusty red-necked
cowboys
Darrell Winfield
and my dad
men whose lives
went up in smoke
to coat my throat
in my own self-righteousness
I'm frightened this
is all that I'll have left
of him
lung cancer
and the lingering stench
of cigarettes

he always smelled
of cigarettes

he'd pull me into these
firm embraces
he held so long
that he'd suffocate me
in tacky business
and cigarette smoke
masked only
faintly
by a poor man's
cologne
still I breathed him in
until I'd start to choke
it was too much man to handle

my grandpa told me
“smoking doesn't send you
straight to Hell,
but it sure does make you smell
like you've already been there”

he was
a grown man
cursing
crying
lying
dying by himself
trying to drown out the inferno
with a case of beer
but sobriety finds you sometime
and I'd rather suffocate in cigarettes
than lose him altogether

and even if he smells like Hell
at least that means he made it back

i wish my mother and father never met.

that is the first thought that crosses to me in my mind whenever things get rough. how i wish they never met, how i yearn for a reality where their paths diverged, where their match was never forged. it's the kind of pain that lies within their union, a relentless ache that seeps into the very essence of my being.

i wish my mother and father never met.

why did the fate allow the stars to align? i did not imagine that in a single moment of cosmic collision, a seed was planted, and i was condemned to bear its bitter fruit. i never knew that the torment would bring forth by the tendrils of their oblivious love entwined.

i wish my mother and father never met.

to envision a world where their lived caused me
chaos. i was craving for too much love and care. a sanctuary where can i break free from the chains of their discord, where my soul can flourish untainted by the weight of their discontent.

i wish my mother and father never met.

in the most grief of longing, i was forced to find my own strength and to stand up on my own two feet. i have learned to navigate the treacherous waters of their fusion, to the salvage shards of happiness wreckage they left behind.

i wish my mother and father never met.

i wish they didn't. i have always dreamt of a life unburdened by the weight of their presence, where the fear of love and its subsequent pain does not linger within me. oh, how i'd die for a world where their love did not cast shadows on my soul, where the scars of their struggles do not color the way i perceive affection. in this alternate existence, i would not carry the weight of their past, their own echoes of their own sorrow. i imagine a life where the walls i've built around my heart would crumble, where vulnerability is no longer a cause for alarm. a life where i am unafraid to offer my own affections, knowing they will be cherished and reciprocated in kind.

i wish my father and mother had never met. i just wanted to take a leap of hope from the love that transcends the limits of blood and anguish. am i really that hard to love?

Dear Dad,
That’s all I ever wanted you to be. A dad, my dad. I didn’t expect you to be a great dad, or even a good dad, but you never made any attempt to be anything close to a dad at all. You did try to be other things to me though. A dictator, a manipulator, even a ****** partner. You may say that I wanted it, you might even actually believe that, but I assure you that my compliance was not an indication of my enjoyment. Compliance was simply the only option you gave me. I saw the way you looked at me long before you ever put your hands on me, but you waited. You waited until you’d pushed me to the brink of insanity. You made me question my reality so much that I’d believe anything you told me. Then on top of that, you found a way to make everyone in our family question every word that I ever uttered in preparation for the day that I’d tell them what you’d done because you knew that eventually, I would. You planned out every piece of what you did so perfectly. Even after I’d come out with the truth you made sure that the walls around me crumbled before yours did. All I ever wanted was for you to be my dad, but you couldn’t even give me that.

You called for me
after I uttered your name
in a passing conversation,
but it’s too late now, father

You see,
I’ve already drank
your poison,
I savored it to the last drop

It’s in my bloodstream,
it’s in my hollow stomach,
it’s pouring over
everything that I am today

My soul is mine,
you can’t touch it,
it’s achingly burning from a
fire I can’t extinguish alone

Your name is laced
with mine, I’m sorry
I couldn’t forget you

But please let me
keep my soul,
It’s mine,
but can I keep it?

It burns me,
let me keep it anyway

On scraps of paper
strewn about the house,
I catch a glimpse of your handwriting  
and it resurrects you from the dead.

Amongst the living,
I can hear your whistle  
as it echos in the hall  
and I remember how I thought that,
'one day, you would make a good dad'.

Amongst the living,
I forget for a moment
that you’re thirsty  
for my blood.  
and that dust now gathers
in the spaces  
where the blood used to flow.

Amongst the living,
I forget for a moment
that you’re haunting me.  
That you’re still here  
but I can’t speak to you.  

That your corpse still lies  
in the next room
Still.  
Tv blaring,
The smell lingers  
and it’s getting bad.  
my phone lights up with your name  

and I jump.

Amongst the living,
I remember  
that you’re only broken.  
I can see your smile
in my mind’s eye,  
Your freckles  
and how I used to count them.  
I wonder now
how much time I’ve spent  
staring at your face  
and how I knew our baby
would have those eyes too.
primal, astral, ancestral,
blue.

I loved you once
and for a moment,  
I remember.

Father is buried,

there is more light now, the sky --


is so much wider.

What I have passed on to my son
is often unclear to me.

I just know
that I had the grace to ensure
the package I passed on
is not the one I received

and that the extent to which
it will be unpacked and utilised
is not mine to determine.

That choice was part of the package.