by Jason Tandon

You feel it coming.
An incommensurate anger.
The gesture your father made
like a butcher hacking through bone.

What must your face look like
for your son’s to look like this?

There’s no paddle, no switch.
When you’re at the table
making noise with your peas,
you’ll close your mouth. Beg pardon.

Last updated March 15, 2023