All Hail the Non-Custodial!

He who reads your journals,

and holds their fatalistic contents against you

For THIRTEEN.

FUCKING.

YEARS.

He who gives you

Just what you deserve

and more

He who stayed up countless nights,

witnessing crying jags

of an anxious infant

from across the room

on the couch

in his unemployed haze

while you begged to be relieved

so you could sleep enough

for work in the morning

Hail the non-custodial!

For never reading a single book

about parenting

or education

but who is just sure

You are doing it wrong

Who doesn’t want you

to bother him

with the details…

Unless he does.

Hail the custodial!

who complains about

discriminatory courts

Who enjoys custodial rights, but never

custodial responsibility

Who never questions

why birthday celebrations

slumber parties

and pretty much all relationships

exist at the home of the custodial.

Never considers the cost

of creating a welcoming home,

but enjoys the privilege

of not having to pay it.

Hail him! Bow before him!

Prostrate yourself for the crumbs

that barely pay the grocery budget

of a house with two

Growing

Teenage boys.

The same amount

that supported

toddler diets and

grade school needs

can now certainly be stretched

to cover

adolescent appetites

and extracurricular

activities.

Throw roses in his wake,

as he tells you

that’s all you’re getting.

Curse your inability to understand

non-custodial math

as you foolishly add up the costs of lodging,

entertainment,

education,

and logistical expenses.

Make sure he knows how special

and holy

he is.

And always. Always. ALWAYS.

Find a way to make do

without his assistance

Because those in custody

should not have to want

for his wanting.

p.s. The subject

of this poem

is FICTIONAL.

Because

Maude forbid anyone

EVER

besmirch the

good name

of the

non-custodial.

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Water Through Sand

Your Robot Heart

Your Robot Heart

(This story is (not) true)

The feeling decisive I am transposed growing fragrant flagrantly desired. I can stop this tropical drop kick sudden misalignment sudden non-attachment. I am not ok with this this is too much for me. I rise with the sun and set with the waves.

Ironing out the kink in my armor I don, gray, move forward into oblivion. I am nothing if not superlative. Absolute. Fired. You are absolutely nothing to me and this meaninglessness is all-encompassing.

There was a brief sting and then it was me. And then you. And I was standing there, regarding with frenzied fury. This is no accident of birth this is no mismatched apprentice this is no apprehension to bear another fight and flight and fog and burn and crash and be and flag.

When I resounded, I sounded loudly. I grew weary. I was at my worst/best when we met – and I return to that now. I move outward, bleakly. The edges of this apocalypse are thinly-formed. A valor that completes itself. An armament. A breeze.

You soldiered forth, still valorous dolorous. We shared walks, talks, mushrooming time in the wake of / midst of / dream of eternity. There is nothing I wouldn’t give to you, except my total heart. There is nothing you couldn’t take from me – aside from everything.

We made no plans & all plans. Meaning you filled in the gaps. Nicely. Like sand through rocks. Like water through sand. And I soaked it in. Not complaining over the absence of commitment or statement of purpose.

I brought you in. Fed you. Warmed you by my fire. Kept you loved you fed you some more. Soothed you and never demanded a damn thing of you.

And so I was NOT biding my time but enjoying each moment as it happened. Tricky, that – but suddenly easy. Allowed myself to be nourished by ENOUGH – not too much. Felt not a moment of anger or jealousy. Truly wanted happiness – in whatever form it was meant to take for you. Yours and mine, yet mine seemed at the same time deferred and requited. Persistent bliss – Chronic. This is/was no ordinary thing. Emotions run thick & I am in the thick of it.

My life – so wonderful you began to pick it apart. The people I admired. The music I was inspired by. The places I enjoyed. All fell under the purview of your delighted disgust. You became fairly wretched, actually…and I didn’t realize it until being pushed to this distance.

Finally, you took back the one thing of value you gave me to keep. Your data. Your robotic heart. And I lost the one thing I kept that you gave. The yo-yo. My joyful heart.

Sometimes, that is the way it works. I”m not ashamed of the love I felt for you – unbounded and immense – unmeasurable and intense. It is who I am. Onward and upward. And you soaked it in like water through sand.