Dali

The refrigerator yawns

its big, white mouth;

inside, the guava juice is

thick as blood.

Sale stickers

peel like skin.

I know his small economies;

he hoards and hoards and

worships what he hoards;

his love comes discounted too.

We share a surname,

this man and I;

but our hearts

don’t feel the same.

He runs his mouth

like a faucet

spilling

God’s name like

loose change.

While other men do lie,

Daddy, you seem to

be the greatest.

Sometimes,

I wonder

if manhood

stood on aisles,

marked down

and discounted,

if you would

spare a dime.