Poem : 'the fathers of my friends'
the fathers of my friends
take them to parks and thanksgiving day parades.
my father takes me to the ocean, bars and graves.
the ocean swelling and emptying
like a woman giving birth.
the black rose bar lit with the dying sun.
cocoon-like it embraces and shields us
from the garish light.
the graves of ancestors
whom i've never met
enveloped in the oblivion of sleep.
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