My father’s second life

You live in the most distorted and peculiar form

Made from other people’s appearances

Gestures of scratching stubble

Straggled over someone’s face

Who doesn’t even care

About his health

As you never did

Just pretending, not imitating

Fast food, big belly, coffee, cigarettes, and alcohol

They are the worst enemies

Of so-called joy of life

But what is joy for when your life is so short?

You never finished any line

Of your words or the land you cared about

Unfinished business – this life of yours

Copied by many other lunatics on this earth

Always ready to strike a match

Yet put out the fire is much harder to get

We have never succeeded in this department

I can only speak for myself

How I felt, feel, and will feel

Not being able to abstract any extract

About the truth of life

Except for a few useless principles

You dared to pass on to me

Your daughter you never wanted to have

At least that’s the impression I’ve always had

I might be wrong, forgive me for that

But if someone does not want to communicate

There can only be theories about someone’s life

Nothing more that pondering on the fact

Of mistakable existence

How supposedly mine should be

And yet I injected sense into it

What are you gonna say now?

Your lips are silent, maybe in another life

You dare to talk to me any other way

Maybe even I would have a chance for revenge

Never mind that

The bottom line is this

I manage to mobilise

Melee in me

Permitting my presence

Regardless of your ludicrous rules

Obstructing every view

That I tried to obtain

And desperately not depart in vain

*

To J.

*

11 November 2021

revised on 3 January 2022

***

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