Mikuláš Galanda, "Family" (1930-1932)

on the phone from prison my father asks

if i am happy. every conversation

yields the same weight. how can i say

that i'm not, that i take everything

for granted while he stays frozen

in plexiglass through his life

and the next. i kill him

over and over again in my poems, write

the eulogy, mourn loud and send his body

to the lake. while he is alive i cannot 

speak to him normally, a tooth shocking

in absence. i will always tell him

that i'm the best i've ever been.

Lily Someson. Columbia Poetry Review, no. 32, Spring 2019. Chicago: Columbia College Chicago.