You practiced goneness as a father,
not admitting my existence.
I was just a hole where cash went
you’d rather spend on your own toys.
At times you’d show up in a crisis
then slip back into oblivion.
We were planets in two orbits
never meant to crash in space.
I moved out and you remarried.
I gave up believing you could
ever be a father, maybe you
could be a distant friend.
And so it was until I heard
that you had died.
You were unwanted, so
I took your ashes, now you
are buried next to my plot,
and that’s the closest we will be
in my whole life.
published in Alethiology
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