A Father’s Gentle Guidance

now he’s used to
the same familiar
tom-tom rhythm
guiding the rivers of his mind’s
tributaries polluted by
tepid word streams
the worst of which
so simple
misappropriates Binet
pours casually
from father to son
so easy
to pound a single label
without meaning
to stake
shifting sands
until name-stung
the tag plants
water recedes and
solidifies
now he’s used to
the same familiar
dumb-dumb rhythm

(7 April 2015)