I love that there is an answer to all things.
Look long enough, hard enough, look
in the closet behind the box of your father’s
ashes. Look inside your father’s ashes.
Under the graduation cap
and gown, try flossing, who knows,
it could be tucked inside a popcorn kernel.
Answers like Of course you can and No,
it will cost too much. Answers like blue and tomorrow
or never, answers like thundering rivers,
like the smell of yeast bread, like drinking
to forget, like oak. And so, I know, there must
be an answer for me there, somewhere, I love
that there is, I search when you’re sleeping, peek
between your knobby toes, the chaos of covers
twisted around you, a shelter of turmoil, run
my fingers through your hair, search behind
your earlobes, sift through the smoke
of your dreams and find,
just there, in the right corner
of your primal,