dear daddy

she memorized
the daddy poem by Sylvia.

she performed it
in the mirror, at dinner.

in the moving car.
the affected accent giving
it rhythm

giving it life, as if it
was her life

lived, not hers. each word
a nail

in the coffin of a wretched
father.

siege heil.

and now strangely, I know the
poem too

by heart, but it's not about
him

but her this time.
each of them,

not miles, but mere inches
apart.