Posted on July 13, 2023
Excerpt of "What’s yer fadder’s name?" translated by Sophie M. Lavoie from Joannie Thomas's "La fille à Colette à Robert à John"
with the full weight of my three years
I understand
that pants are made for running
and dresses
are made to rein you in
in the house
where my dad grew up
you could see the sky
through the cracks in the ceiling
through it, my dad saw the cold
the misery
he doesn’t yet get
that it made for
better dreaming
we retrace
the paths of our youth
to find traces of love
within
on a skidoo trail
behind the strip joint
digging through to the wet sand
at the beach
and burying a ketchup chip
in the hole
on the bridge to the island
in a Winnebago
squatting to take a piss
in the woods
and hoping
not to hit yer shoes
behind the Dodge Caravan
crying about a partridge
my dad yells
“squish ‘er head with yer foot”
