no, baby girl,

we can’t take the time machine,

it won’t fit inside that apartment.

you’ll just have to listen,

i’m sorry,

but most of history is like that: unverifiable, falsifiable, subjective.

but i’ll tell you anyway,

how we were left,

trapped in that place.

no wait, it started a week before,

i was invited by school,

to get a chinese new years’ present ,

and driving back,

with a box of 200 eggs,

i felt my life is too weird.

those eggs came in handy, though.

how all traffic was halted,

people waiting in terminals,

told to go, no matter if they were residents , all must stay put.

that early morning,

fearing doom,

i ran to walmart,

with mask and goggles,

in the cold winter,

buying everything i could,

and failing to get a taxi home,

had to lug it all myself.

boy, was i sweaty..

and how news came,

of what was going on, frightening,

and how no one knew what to do,

so better blame others,

and do nothing.

and how the local shop ,

went out of business,

’cause they had no merchendise,

and how we could not take your mom for walks outside,

so we waited by the window,

watching for brave souls,

to take their dogs out.

and how one elevator was strictly reserved for THE covid guy,

from the tenth.

and how people thought,

this will stay in china,

and did not anticipate problems.

i can tell you, girl,

how we could get no diapers,

and formula,

and got help from charitable people, how we struggled,

to entertain your mom,

and provide,

some measure of stimulation,

and surprise.

how we made do:

unable to buy toys,

i took apart some appliances,

so she will have new things to manipulate with her fingers,

sitting on the play mat.

the crazy neighbor who wouldn’t go down for deliveries,

fishing, hoisting bags of groceries, how we had a good show,

to see the catch of the day: detergents, toilet paper,

pork ribs, fish.

Marx’s law of diminishing returns:

applies to confined spaces,

in particular;

the benefit we could make from a given limited space,

decreases over time.

i lost weight,

she learned to walk,

i got crazy,

she started talking,

i got frustrated,

she started giggling.

you see, people are essentially snails,

the rough pavement grinds on them,

and much is left behind,

secreted on the trail.

sometime i wake, and find myself,

reliving a moment.

undoubtedly i was there,

and some times i live there still.

but this is the real lesson,

the goodness of others, the occasions of joy we feel,

like your mom’s first birthday,

which we set up hurridly ,

while she was napping.

that pigeon that drew her attention,

as it explored our balcony,

for an entire hour,

or that rare snow blizzard ,

swirling so beautifully outside.

those occasions are proof:

life will go on.

and perhaps, somewhere ,

there is a thing of great agency,

that provides those islands of light, to keep us alive.

for what purpose?

maybe we can spin up,

that time machine of yours,

travel to future,

maybe those guys found an answer...

aa

for Madison, on her wedding day

Confession: we didn’t want you

to move to Michigan,

where the statues have arms

in all the wrong places

and the snow smears down

the sidewalks in March.

We didn’t want to wave around

wine glasses and say “lake effect”

like it meant something. Then

we witnessed your happy,

the way you clung to each other

like shadows minus the darkness.

You grew into this love like a trellis,

climbing, certain of what’s above:

baths of honey, tubs of sugar,

an abundance of cake.

What we are trying do is write you

a garden, a tree branch, any place

with room to build your nest.

Our promise: we will help you

sculpt twigs again and again

to build a space in the world

perfect for your two shapes.

Sit still, back straight, hands rested in lap

Chin up, eyes forward, feet crossed

Girls, wear your long skirts to cover your skin, 

for if you show, you would be enticing men 

- it's your fault that they come - 

So cover your skin that makes you human 

In scraps of cloth sewn to hide your fire inside.

Boys, wear your suits to cover the rascals you are, 

tuck in your shirt, wear the blazer, make sure your shoes are shined, 

for if you don't, the women will turn away from you 

- be a gentleman - 

So, dress the way society commends, 

to hide the ways that you truly are with the scars you've earned. 

Sit pretty in front of your families, 

representing the name you carry

- a burden you're chained to -

Your words are your only solace, 

locked away all day until you can come back to your reprieve, 

releasing the screams from within 

- don't talk back, it's rude - 

Until they took away your words

- your freedom - 

Confining you to the box they've made, 

the perfect little child

So, sit pretty and stay silent, 

For if you do those things, you will be accepted 

- into a society of wolves -

I want to write

A love letter

One not for you

But instead for me

A self-love letter for the depths of me who deserve it

Oh, how I deserve it

A love letter

Written by someone

Who sees love in my emerald green eyes

Who sees potential in my lips when I spit venom into my prey

Who can read passion in the tears I shed for no particular reason

My lover

My life

You'll never write me a love letter

But you don't have to

Because I'll write mine

Is it worth helping out someone worth the time or the effort? When you hold open the door for the person behind you. Did it really change the world? When you gave some spare change to the guy at the gas station. Did it change his situation? When you give your friend advice time and time again, but they never listened or learned. Was it really that helpful?

I would argue, yes. Life is rarely about the big battles and few people ever make a massive impact, but that doesn't mean the small things don't matter. If you've ever had a sliver in your toe or a grain of sand in your eye. You will understand that it doesn't take much to make to affect someone's life. And remember, whenever you hold the door for someone or give a homeless person change. In that moment, you changed their world.

Except for your friend who asks you for advice, never takes it, and gets themselves in trouble as a direct result. In the words of Ron Swanson, "Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day...Don't teach a man to fish and you feed yourself. He's a grown man, fishing is not that hard."

The flowers you gave,

they're dead, dried up, and wilted,

just like my heart now.

Dear Evolet, maddex, and Caleb,

My dearest Evolet, don't let the standards of the world define you. Don't even let your mother or myself define you. You are your own woman and this is your life to live. Own it and embrace it. Do not look back on your life and wish that things turned out differently. Be bold and don't settle for second best. Daddy loves you.

Maddex, my smart young man. Do not be afraid to be the smartest man in the room or hide any of your talents. People love to push others down when they can't do it themselves. Embrace looking like a temporary fool in order to become you the man you are meant to be. Daddy loves you.

Caleb, my only regret is that I never got to meet you. I wish I could've heard your laughter, got to see you walk, and see you go to school. The important thing is that you will grow up. Do not let people use you as a doormat. It is better to have a few honest friends who truly care for you. Then to be popular for all the wrong reasons. Never be afraid to try new things. Daddy never like poetry or history as a kid. Now it's my passion.

Daddy loves you.

I love you all. I wish that I got to see you guys all grown up. And see you all become parents yourselves. That is my deepest regret. I've had many moments that made me proud, but each and every one of you are my greatest triumph. I am a happy man.

Yours truly,

Daddy

Kiss me,

Snaking

Tongues into my head

Sucking out my reason,

Bring to life my dead

With words of passion

Without love.

Still a man hears what he wants to hear

And disregards the rest,

For hearing all destroys us.

I try

But can’t digest.

Expanding minds,

Exploding

Beyond all recognition.

Insanity,

Like snaking tongues,

Dismantling cognition,

Sucking out my reason

Like snakes inside my head

And tongues

That kiss with passion's promise

But leave us, then

For dead.