poem to a father

A Poem by jesswrecks

one year,
and a day
or two -
maybe three
perhaps an
entire week
has gone
and buried
since I last
stood within
a ten foot
radius of
his existence

sometimes
she talks
about him
with friends
while I am
in the kitchen
or backseat
earphones in
volume down

said he knew
the lord’s word
better than the
preacher and
practiced his
alibi more than his
religion hide his
girlfriends like his
cocaine habits -
terribly but he
could make a damn
good omelet

those are
the memories
I catch in
puzzle pieces
and choose to
remember
ever so
nervously
while his
name lingers
like a cartoon
cloud prepared
to rain on my
masquerade
parade of normal