where are we? the baby's thought..we're home, I'm watching the hours pass wondering when I should leave..I think about her father...my daughter's father, totally disconnected from this and for good reason...he's from the future, her dad.. put it bluntly, she hates his guts...I try to think of this in couched terms 'h.ate' like assisted 'food'..somehow I try to make sense of her not loving the person who tended her so gently her first month or two...when everything blew up in our faces like a goddamn chemical war...and we were split apart more easily than a neutron bomb..totally fused..so I call this 'fathers in fusion'
I don't think we need cry about it..my daughter spews off a lot of illogic in her residency as the n ewest mother on the block and you get to know the phase options of talking in the manner of 'mother of pearl'..as in expressing anger...she hisses at me like a little poisonous snake when she finds that I've made what she perceives as a verbal faux pas...in fact I wonder at the sanctity of my using 'their' computer...as my scalp dislodges more and more of my own hair to pay the biology of the situation
there are good and bad in this but we ride across the top of it like we're at the skating rink and it's all good...he masquerades in New Orleans with her/myexmydaughter/and she's a veritable fashion plate but no one is sure is it her is it him...and of course I don't exist in all of this but that sad part was when we were sitting on the grassy knoll and watched across the parking lot, the doppleganger enter the apartment above ours...'this is the law as we now know it' he said to me then but I didn't understand until another day when I'd thrown out my last pair of shoes trying to catch the sucker
I don't think we need cry about it..my daughter spews off a lot of illogic in her residency as the n ewest mother on the block and you get to know the phase options of talking in the manner of 'mother of pearl'..as in expressing anger...she hisses at me like a little poisonous snake when she finds that I've made what she perceives as a verbal faux pas...in fact I wonder at the sanctity of my using 'their' computer...as my scalp dislodges more and more of my own hair to pay the biology of the situation
there are good and bad in this but we ride across the top of it like we're at the skating rink and it's all good...he masquerades in New Orleans with her/myexmydaughter/and she's a veritable fashion plate but no one is sure is it her is it him...and of course I don't exist in all of this but that sad part was when we were sitting on the grassy knoll and watched across the parking lot, the doppleganger enter the apartment above ours...'this is the law as we now know it' he said to me then but I didn't understand until another day when I'd thrown out my last pair of shoes trying to catch the sucker
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