Xenization

Ancient stories of our yellowed-nicotine ceilings
Express my angst at the subject of your support.

Green-leaf Spring droplets never did it for me, father.

And while your stories of lovers were always filled
Half with 2%-milk and half with venerable heartaches
(Both of which you served cold, as is proper),
The e multiplied by motion equation always seemed to subsist.

In your mind where the variable e was always dropped,
Everything was simplified down to motion.

Do not lecture me on fighting to be just as brilliant
As our ceilings never were.

Reviews

[Circe]

absolutely effective work... the residual pain... and the title is another interesting word! it's like two people have become strangers and alienated from one another... using physics to describe your father.. wow, I love that.... I can understand.. these things stay with us, the hurt we feel from our parents.. powerful writing.

[Jennifer Hopkins]

Thank you, always, for your well-thought out comments. You are great at summarizing what I mean in the words I put down - thank you!

[Ed Fagan]

This one has a pesonal sting. Deep and sharp. Expressed well.

[Jennifer Hopkins]

Thank you, Ed.

[Steeven]

the counter of milk/nicotine...tremendous.
last two stanzas piece everything bitter-sweetly.

sympathy and graciousness

[Jennifer Hopkins]

Bitter-sweet is my favourite.