FATHER
the table
was laid out for two
the meat
was tender
when there
was a knock
who’s there?
my wife said
while she
looked away
and washed
her hands
i opened
the door
there were many
of them
as far as
the horizon
they filled
the landscape
i knew who
they were
although
i’d never seen them before
their looks
were stern
what have
you done?
they ask in
unison
who is it?
my wife called out
the meat
was ready
rare and
soft
in front of
me stood the seed
that i had carelessly
spilt
since my youth
all the
seed that had
ever flowed
from me
it had
germinated into grain
and come
back to me
they were
rough and transparent
incomplete,
since they lacked
a female
component
father,
what is it you have done?
they asked
once more
who is it?
my wife called out
i pulled
the door some more towards me
transfixed
i looked at it
that
restless sperm of mine
It’s
complicated, i told them
for i was a
man and a coward
blushing i
thought of the life
that has
slipped through my fingers
nameless
and naked
they asked
a third
time why
i gave a
deep swallow
it didn’t
help
in veils of
mist i then saw
how they started
to become blurred
i went on
standing there till i was sure
that all
traces had been erased
then i went
inside
and closed
the curtains
who was it?
my wife asked
she cut the
flesh
that was
pink
i chewed
far too long
and told
her it was tasty
so tender
and soft
my wife did
not notice my suffering
she had her
own cross to bear
that night
while she slept
i tossed
and turned
and sighed
deeply
dejectedly
i stood up
and counted
the blisters
on my hands
when i
pricked them with a needle
they seemed
to be full of tears
it was the
work of many years
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