father

I like everything my father can't pronounce
the rest he leaves unsaid
then through mute pleas
he acts out subterfuges
leaving doors open, others shut
lights on, others off, like a ghost
or a crumb thief
he claims he's psychic, proven
by what he's been able to avoid
he doesn't use soap
won't touch a sponge
there are germs, liberals
clean is a conspiracy
to erase him, leave a film,
and clog pipes
he lies out of reflex
the truth is his, his own
pilfered secrets guarded
under dirty finger nails


r