My Daughter Weighs Fourteen Thousand Grams
We share stories
of our father’s prostates
wonder will it be us next
order more beer
one day the chemo will take
our taste buds; we hug
goodnight
little altar crosses
on the side of the road
monuments eroded hope
that we’ll know when to go, magical
thinking of souls dancing
in glows of sulfur
Juice WRLD on the radio
a diamond in the back
Fourteen thousand grams of pure
her, who doesn’t know death
her, except the night we found
a june bug ass down, legs up
long given up— crunch!
to the land
of wind and hungry ghosts