it’s in the bath
where we connect
every evening
as the mud on my tongue
slides down into the rest of me
and I flee the heavy tilt
of smells and spin
by floating with you
in the slippery warmth

hello

I say
and I imagine you
scuttling up
towards the roof
of my ribs
like a fish
in a bowl
who sees he is about
to be fed

I tell you all sorts of things
like how we live on a lake
and that your dad works very hard
to make us laugh
and sorry about all
the salt and vinegar chips
but I’m hoping
it’s just a phase

I listen hard
just in case you slip
a secret through the maze
of our togetherness

and tonight you did
a flutter in the crowd
of my own thoughts

I know it was you
because my voice
is never so brave

please

you said
clear as a rain drop
a patient word
an echo of vulnerability
that shook me
with the strength
of its truth.

and I want to tell him
thank you
but not in words

I want to button myself up
inside the wet room of his heart
and press the hushed bigness
of my gratitude
into its soft walls

gratitude
for seeing the light
that ignites
my plainest self

the way I imagine
the beetle feels
about the moon
as it hoists itself up
in the thick dark sky

collapsing the day
and transforming him from a dull thing
crawling along the lumpy earth
into a wink of light

finally
he is a firefly again
lit up by the moon
releasing his luminous secret
to the world again.

you have begged so hard
to watch Humpty on youtube
that you are not a body anymore
but a writhing sack of outrage

exhausted
your dad stares
at the same spot on the ceiling
and gives you his version
of Humpty Dumpty’s backstory

about the two brothers
nobody talks about

how Darryl was the athletic one
who should have been on the wall

about Harold
who ironically
sold insurance

how Mr. and Mrs. Dumpty
didn’t make it
drifting apart
unable to cope with the grief
both quietly taking to the drink

I don’t know when
it was that you drifted off
but when you woke up
twelve hours later
you were the happiest
you’ve been in weeks

like a pin had popped
an anxiety that had been swelling
in your head

as though finally so much
had been answered.

when I get little

like how you will help me
into your car seat
and teach me to count
to really big

at first I marveled
at your circle of life
then I realized how mighty
it must feel
to imagine you finally
in charge of me

but as you went on
I could have wept
for how you pictured
all the ways
you would soothe me
in our big jagged world.

the gossipy honk
of the seagull

the wise gurgle
of the pigeon

the nag
of the crow

I ask my son
what he thinks they are saying

they’re talking about airplanes

he says with a look
that implies
he thinks I should know this

and just then
one rumbles over our roof
and I think he’s probably right

all those birds
wondering what makes
their metal friend so angry
that he roars
whenever he flies by.

you see
you don’t write poems

they are there all along

you smoke
them out.

and your pee
which you told me yesterday
gets flushed home
where it opens the door
and makes pasta for all its friends

which is why
when you asked me
about the man who sleeps
by the Safeway
and I told you he doesn’t
have a home
you looked so serious

but where is his mama

I wondered if the man
asks himself
the same question

but before I could think
of what to say
you pointed out
a car just like Grandpa’s

and it wasn’t until later
just before bed
that you asked me
if I thought that man
would fit inside the fort
you just made
of pillows.

and since nobody had told me
about condensed water vapour
it sounded reasonable to me

so I spent hours
staring upwards
wondering why God
was thinking about rabbits
or monsters
with gauzy claws

and one clear blue day
I worried God
was giving us the silent treatment
or maybe he had fallen
into a coma

which makes me wonder
about the whimsy
in the answers
I paste to my son’s mind

I have told him the wind
blows secrets
but maybe the magic
is in the wind itself

the way the sun
heats our planet’s lumpy bones
in different ways
making the invisible rise
spin and blow.

you made it your job
to look invincible

while inside you
stood a ghost

your true self

a collision with despair
every night
waking you up
clanging his chains

and now you’ve turned
inside out

the ghost has not been set free
it’s better than that

there is no ghost anymore

only one imposing man
who will stand on the court again
and we will all stare at you
not thinking about what you are

but asking ourselves

how can we be more brave
how can we be more true.

but last night
it was the next chapter you asked for
the part after Humpty falls off the wall

you sing it non-stop
so I thought you got it
that there is no tomorrow for the poor guy

but when I explained this
you burst into tears
and so it is
that you will grow up
believing that he went on
to invent
the helmet.