now that my father is dead, he is my peer

i can see him when he was a young man; i can follow him as he courted my mother; i know him throughout his life. i have a deep and rounded knowledge of him. i was not there at the beginning, but i was there at the end

i watch him as a young boy, using his brains to keep from being beaten up

i carried his sadness for a time, the sadness that was too dangerous for him to feel

i know him making love. i know him in his body, i cherish him in his body, and i know him cherishing my mother's body. finding home in my mother's body, making home for me in my mother's body

i watched him in the hospital. i held his hand

quite possibly he is watching me all the time now. the thought makes my lover uncomfortable, but why shouldn't my father be present at my orgasm? he is everywhere; everything reminds me of him

coming home from north carolina i thought of him in the car and cried. at dinner tonight i thought of him and spoke sternly to my friend, my father is not an alien to me. my father is my peer

i have the empathy for him that i usually have for those with experiences like mine, although his life was very different from mine

we are inside each other, we have lived each other's lives