Somewhere in America, 2016

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Without the excuse of profiling, never in fear of mandatory minimums or shots in the back, The Absent Father, full of pride, and suffering, the kind of illness we see too often, in our siblings and friends, and in ourselves, passed on through generations of genes, seeking relief from sweaty palms found only through certain powders from certain doctors, would arrive too late, after his boy’s palms would outstretch the leather webbing of his father’s mitt and, like trash, discard it along with his dream, after his boy would kiss for the first time and those seven minutes would linger for decades, after The Towers came down, his boy too young to comprehend, left staring at the TV set, long after his boy’s Mother would file for bankruptcy, when she had to finish school while working two jobs with three kids, after his daughters would kiss for the first time, after his daughters would be hurt for the first time and his boy’s knuckles would bleed, after his boy would make the same mistakes all men make while too boozed up to even slip, She would have loved him even then, but, after, his father would answer his boy’s question, concerning the Woman who raised him true, “because of the pride we feel inside from ventures with adultery,” all came after, after The Towers were down and the world became a dangerous place, and it would be too late to instill his wisdom in his boy.


FEATURED PHOTO CREDIT:  “Flag” by Jacquelyn Gallo