» Poetry
Levitations
My father dies in the morning
& a candy jar
in the middle of the house
wants also to be empty
objects in our living room
float like hot flies,
blue couches clutch the ceiling
& the coffee table whispers into the wall
The people, the fallen people,
the loved ones, my loved ones
sitting in the patio
we still laugh at the joke
about the giraffe.
We may cry in our fluorescent rooms,
when no one is looking.
We may be strong, we may, we may
but first we will tear our own
skin from our own skin
first can we go find
the other side where he went
find that place is not empty too.