The Absence of Wavelength

Bathing (Until He’s A Man)

Still in progress…

He lies in the tub in his clothes
In the dark when I dare knock,
Fearing to ask when I can brush my teeth.
He decided vodka tastes best straight from bottle,
Learning how to numb, bathe
In moon glow, sleep with tv on (sometimes
Until dawn) in a makeshift bedroom, dusty, spider-infested,
next to that creepy boiler in our basement.
I wondered how long a soak could last
in tee and underpants. Told not to worry,
but worry during this phase of dysphoria.
She wasn’t caught early enough. He wants to emerge
before 18. Can’t wait too long — even
if I hide liquor — nothing is strong enough
To stop self-hate until he’s a man.


5.20.22
I love you Myles! I’m coming. If I only knew how to save you from my own ignorance.
10.13.24
Perhaps, first coherent poem since my son's transgender life changes. He's healthier and happier now, shown able to deal with physical and mental conflicts. Proud and in awe of one I helped create, brave and taking life head on. I know I'll have my friend back someday, so we can laugh together again.