My Father’s Knees

Wherever you feel discomfort in the body,

make yourself at home. A knee without cartilage

is your creaking cradle. Notice where

discomfort ends and pain begins.

There’s a special pill that takes me home.

What I love about the new year is how

it comes in easy-to-swallow caplets.

Last night we talked about steaming lobsters alive

for the new year. What I love about sacrifice

is not doing it myself. My father once

stood on the deck of a ship that was sinking

in the English Channel. Dying is easy.

The desire to be at ease is killing me.

Shakespeare knew how to kill his way

out of a scene. Could you please press PAUSE?

I have to find Dover. I have cultivated

a certain helplessness. I cannot fix the teleporter

without your help. Currently we’re unable

to transfer matter without traversing space.

Wherever you lay your headache is

the right dosage. Dover is where your pain

hopes to end. If only I had an energy drink.

Thank God, a natural disaster to make things

interesting. Up next, the year in extreme weather.

Indeed, the heath is insane tonight.

Could you please press THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY?

That was a good one for pain. Since then

much has come into view. My shadow stretched

so long I updated my status. I cultivated

a certain newness. Last night we talked about

inventing a new word. And I want to be there

when we get there. Welcome back to the year in

obfuscation. Stay tuned for the year’s best

neologisms. Thanks for making everything

a competition. Thanks for the terrible conflicts.

Reading is the new terrorism. Once my father

read a play that was four centuries old.

For the new year I resolve to become fluent in

English. From my father I inherited English

and a lack of cartilage in my right knee.

For the next thirty seconds the new year will be

painless. I have nowhere to go.