Poem for Monday and Father's Day

What I Mean When I Say Harmony
By Geffrey Davis & F. Douglas Brown

1.

dear boy be the muscle:
make music to the bone—risk

that mercurial measure
of contact there are those

who touch a body and leave it
graceful be that kind

of wonder —and if I ever
catch you confusing

a pulse for a path or a bridge
to beat loneliness your blood

will be the object of discussion
I will ask to see it back

if only to know the shared sinew
if only to relight your blessing

if only to rekindle the song
carried in your hands

2. The Remix

ode to the boy in me singing at the table so rude
but the hum-a-long mingles with your husky laughter

ode to the father in you wringing something out of nothing
ode to [dutiful] stitched into your fingers and not:—[obligatory drudgery]

and yes ode to the ghosts now roving your cupboards and bed
ode to your lingering music a mixtape of meals and memory

ode to what you still offer I suckle it down throughout the night
taste everything passed between your fingers

3. Side B

dear boy aint nothing
not about bodies

we have more than one
sun more than one way

to gasp inside the heat
and arms of praise

worship the warmth
of each loaded light let your body

grow fragile an offertory —sweet—
lick bite know the knot

of your desire hold it
in your mouth let it live

let it split do not leave this earth
without tasting what passes

between fingers son
always go deep find the seed

in each fruit’s buried longing
if it is yours sing it mine

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I had a fairly lazy Father's Day -- slept late, caught up on some correspondence, cackled gleefully reading about K-pop fans trolling Trump, uploaded some photos, chatted briefly on Zoom with some fans, then went to my parents' house to eat California Pizza Kitchen and cheesecake under the deck with them and Skype with our kids and Paul's parents.

When we got home, we watched the first episode of the new, dark Perry Mason, plus this week's excellent Snowpiercer and John Oliver's summary of the damage not only to Trump's rally but his entire fundraising operation, since all the amassed demographic information and addresses are useless. A few photos from my neighborhood, my parents' neighborhood, and the kids: