maybe you'll be home by xmas

maybe you'll be home by xmas

you call to tell me how you're doing
it this time, irrevocable damage
of long term use, you say, destruction of the liver
and kidneys thru the miracles of modern
medicine. what a cliche.

you're in your father's house, the home
you never had, the obligation at last
where it belongs. he of course is due
some suffering soon. the hospital waiting
room, plugs and decisions. i wonder
what your dreams will be like then.
maybe he will accept this offer
from you, at last. his holiday won't be
affected. he's jewish now, morphed
into his body and you, his issac, his little
lamb, god's intentions. no disembodied
hand to stay the knife he could have melted
with acceptance of who you are
if only you ever knew~
verlaine, rimbaud, the eyes of ghalib.