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I told father

I wanted my stout legs

to slip into nylons. Miraculously,

he nodded and planted

velvet flags around

the house. The earth

opened, femme fatale. Strangers,

can keep to their sidewalks,

            their filthy eyes and awnings.

I have the sound of my father

laughing in eyeliner, wiping away

his tears with blooming rivers.

Before he died, he waved

his steelyard hand, in prayer

for the Pleiades to watch me in his stead.

He gave me Lou Reed, the strength

of all-weather flesh, and a full heart

to see

and work it.

found this poem from the opening salvo of Dreaming in Satellite, original since removed