Monday 16 September 2019

This glass here's for you

When I was young,
dad would only say he loved me
when drunk.

He’d take me to his face
—a toilet bowl—
and spew the sewerage.

Or at least

that’s how I saw it.

I hardly do it but
years on,

I got drunk

and when my housemate entered

I felt this overwhelming love.

It was like
I was free to just admit
my housie was chocolate cake
and I’d loved my chocolate cake
all along

and none of this felt weird
in any way.

Maybe dad had it something like this

and it took the grog to just let go
and love me the way he always

Maybe most of the time
love is too intense to handle sober.

I never really get you dad
but this glass here’s for you.