Sunday, April 24, 2016


his face droops on the right
though he doesn't know it
he hasn't looked in the mirror
for over a year

of course, when he cocks his head,
as he often does,
staring at the world from a
permanent 2 o'clock tilt

the waterfall of features
is less noticeable

the slope of his eyes and mouth,
melting like Dali's clocks
seem to disappear in some
off-center symmetry

as if this change of perspective
could erase the microscopic clot
that cut his hemispheres
right in two

and my father could no longer
right his crooked smile

April PAD Day 20 - what goes unsaid

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