The Daughter - text only

 she remembers the crushed
 aspect of his face. his
 wife was marrying someone
 else. it was agreed over

 glasses of pineapple
 juice poured over ice, sweat
 beading on the rim. it was
 for the best, for the kids. Some-

 body'd forgotten him,
 the poor proposition,
 the dead end. all he got: stained
 airmails, cards, and clairvoyants

 invoking his name. she
 remembers the sourness
 in his eyes and wonders if
 his wife would have better served

 him gin.


from Father Poems (Manila: Anvil Publishing, 2004), anthology