There Are Men in This City Who Dress Their Sons Like Themselves
Lying on the lamenting table
Is wrong. The identifying principal
In the bird song. We watch it
Up in the tree, alarmed by the sky-drift.
I hand him the letter. He doesn’t read it.
No one send-off is correct.
Too many to enumerate. A fountain
In the middle of the mall.
We go there to count coins.
There are men in this city who dress
Their sons like themselves.
They make sure the brims
On their son’s baseball caps
Stay straight and rigid.
You should know how alone you are
In your weakness.
Alejandro Escudé is the winner of the 2012 Sacramento Poetry Center Award. The winning manuscript, My Earthbound Eye, was published in September 2013.
He received a master’s degree in creative writing from U.C. Davis and teaches high school English in Santa Monica, California. He is also a recent Pushcart Prize nominee and, among other journals, his poems have appeared in California Quarterly, Main Street Rag, Phoebe, Poet Lore, Rattle, as well as in an anthology entitled How to Be This Man, published by Swan Scythe Press.
Originally from Argentina, he lives with his wife and two kids in Los Angeles, California. You can find more information about him and his work on alejandroescude.com.