Every Dusk, Mothertongue. Mothertonguing Every Dusk.

So you want to be a companion of the streets,

my son, the sea caves and creeks where the water

is soused with disease. Your father was

a caterwauling tomcat, with a chunk

cut from one ear. He could hear the wind change,

even when it blew soft; I could only hear

his rapid heartbeat. How your father’s heart

thumped! I never forgave him, but I will

forgive you for leaving. Sons leave. Seasons change.

The sea is a different sea every day. Always,

when I taste bitter and under-ripe fruit,

I will think of you, my son.

I will think of you, my son, always.

When I taste bitter and under-ripe fruit,

seasons change. The sea is a different sea every day,

so you are forgiven and should leave. Please, leave;

harken your own thumping heart. I never forgave

your father when his began to blow soft, could only hear

his old rapid beat. But he heard the wind

change, even with a chunk cut from one ear.

Your father was a tomcat too, caterwauling

soused in diseased water, those sea caves

and creeks. You and the streets are

companions of want, my son.