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ID Name Type
10 My dad froze his favorite fish when it died Poem

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I don't write poetry often. And I rarely talk about my family in my art. Obviously, my personal relationships trickle into my art in the way that all things are connected, but it's usually not so explicit. There's no specific reason, I think I have a pretty good relationship with my parents, I love my mom and dad dearly. But there's always been a distance, a gap in language, politics, culture, way of life. My mom loves being nosy, so inevitably we still talk—and debate, and sometimes argue, about capitalism, nuclear families, the usual. I don't really talk with my dad about any of those things, or much at all, but I got my love of fish from him. My dad would spend hours of every day watching the fish in his aquarium. And he would spend those same hours watching me as I grew up. (And occasionally he would fall asleep and stop watching and then I would throw around CDs like frisbee ruining his music collection.) Then, I would start spending hours watching the fish. And watching my dad watching the fish.

A poem about my dad.

my dad watches his fish
what does he see?
beauty, bounded

i watch my dad watch his fish
what do i see?
beauty, bounded