From the Fishouse

I don’t believe in beauty: my lover

beside me
beautiful: my father often

a liar: I don’t believe

you: my father always

I love you: father
I am always saying

father: you have never been

here in this house:
mother beside her lover

sleeping, brother and his often-lover

radiator hiss or is it whisper?

asleep in the room next door.

Here as in everywhere: father

I am always calling you. Here

it is Christmas Eve: I don’t believe:

lights-in-snow:

Actually snowing.