[Dad is sick again]

Dad is sick again
I know because he listens
better like this

And I saw the scans.

Each murmur examined
All whispers caressed

To be loved
is to have your words
cradled
in wrinkled hands

[I call upstairs and ask why]

I call upstairs and ask why
it isn’t working
The grill on the patio I mean
It gets too hot too fast
And it burns things without even cooking them
I don’t think you heard

Then there’s you and me
Spreading through each other’s lives
Like the tree
behind your house
that won’t stop tearing up the bricks of the patio
So even if the grill worked,
then what?

My favorite part of your body is your
whole body
But it looks kind of harsh
In the mirror I got for you

Josh Haffner is a poet living in Baltimore, Maryland.