That was when we began to call you Daddy
behind your back. Somewhere along the dust bowl road
I tasted blood. The dim plastic tape lost itself like a mind
in a failure, forever on stop. Dust hung in the air,
raining from time to time. You are the man
who shocked me into saying please, keeping my
elbows off the table. Jerked me into thinking
before I spoke. And thinking and thinking. Years forward
when my body declared war on me and my buzzing brain,
you could not stand my screaming. Your arms around me
jolted it deep inside. Does that work in reverse? Hey,
Dad?
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