I used to the stare at the
Photo of my father
Hung high on the wall

It would look like he
Was looking at me
Whenever I was in
Bed being punished for
Something or another.

When he finally came
Around, I rode on his
Shoulders the whole day,
And kicked him out
Of my mother’s bed
At night.


After I grew up,
I married my father.
He was older, had
Soft eyes that stared
Into mine as they
Read us our rights
The firm warm
Handshake of a pilot
Who was too busy
Flying to be raising
His son.
Beautiful dragonflies
One day, there’ll be
None of you left.
We would’ve teared
Off your fairy
Wings, ripped
Out your heads,
And squashed your
Propeller tails.

Beautiful dragonflies,
On that day, we will
Only have helicopters
Left, those ugly
Inefficient machines
Who try so hard
To imitate you.

Your black crow friends
Will be silenced also,
And mornings will be
Extra silent, perhaps
All the people will
Go to the roofs and
Cough out their lungs
In unison.