COURTING ELEKTRA

A friend, laughing, shows me
a think piece: “How to Date a Girl
With Daddy Issues.”
Did you write this, she asks, with
ink or your bitter blood?
I tell her a father can leave
with good reason;
for example,
fighting his country’s war.
A father can leave
expectations:
cartoon pianos
hanging over his children,
receptacles of dirt.
A father can leave
his body, which will grow two
feet and throw the dog out the window,
or break the toaster with the mother’s face.
A father can leave
marks: handprints, drywall holes,
bruises that burst before sinking beneath
the skin, lurking,
subtle and sure hippopotamuses.
A father can leave
improvised explosive devices
tucked in his children’s ears—
container: pressure cooker vocal chords—power
source: irregular brain waves—switch:
scream—detonator: bone—explosive:
smokeless propulsion
of shrapnelskinandlastshredsofpleasenodont,
the hysteric of a war
in the desert
a father can leave.