Stood at a grave the whole story up till now unravelled—
our son not our son our son instead something necessitating
the word instead. A father’s grief retrieved him from a different
world that grief a ferryman poling between worlds. What coin
pays the fare besides the one with the non-president’s head
the history that also comes instead?
The son not even aware
of his loneliness the loneliness a landfill filled in with the
hand-me-down memories that come from before come from
the first one. Instead he recalls each time remembering
nothing of childhood nothing except his father gone worldless
gone mad with guilt traversed vibration’s rattling grief.