my father is a poet. my nanny died while i was at church camp. is he your son? that old computer holds more of you than i’d care to know. i write my poems to tuck between yours. can i keep something, this time?
mining the family
inflictions.
good morning, midnight.
family matters
[2022]
— a letter for my estranged brother that i will never send.
cyclical nature, the only way through
— remember that time you had to read Freud’s Mourning and Melancholia?