Fathers and Time
The Verb
00:00
The Oddness of Memories
The poem is meant to be a kind of hereditary line. I've inherited my dad's foolishly, endlessly foolish optimism and his tendency to burst into song in appropriate times. There are very, very few moments that have survived what he does. He rarely finds great joy in them, but he does clearly love them and the love burns through largely in the grief.
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