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.