Under the solar system
in our basement I sat,
copying schematics of
superheterodyne radios
from a book on electronics,
while my dad, across from me,
stood at his drawing board
illustrating advertisements
for feed and farm equipment.
The floor was painted blood red,
the walls bandage white—
a battlefield made tidy.
The dehumidifier murmured its hymn
beneath Saladin’s ceramic gaze,
his turbaned brow inscrutable
as my father bent to sketch
a combine in perfect perspective.
And why Saladin’s head?
What did it mean to my dad,
this sultan of Egypt and Syria?
Did he admire the general
for how he fought with honor
or just like the look of him—
that calm authority,
that stylized beard?
Was it a joke I never got,
or a reminder
of some private war?
Saladin’s head—
commanding,
noble,
a little creepy—
still hangs
somewhere in my mind,
a relic or a riddle,
watching as I trace new lines
through circuits of memory,
searching for my father’s face.
Categories:
dehumidifier, 4th grade, art, childhood,
Form: Free verse
I hate to do this to you
I kissed the scar tissue
on your shoulder blade
It sits there, port wine raised scar
placed there in a time before I met you
by a lighter held by a long ago friend
You were sleeping still,
the white noise of the dehumidifier
filled your ears with dreams
so I kissed it, the scar on your shoulder blade
You didn’t notice me
placing my lips on that soft skin.
I can’t go on like this, you not knowing
Forgive me, I lost your laptop charger, too.
It happened yesterday, I haven’t told you yet
You just looked so tired, your eyelids
Worst of all, I will probably do it again.
Kiss your scar, not lose your charger
I will probably do it again.
But I will never fall in love
with another person, picking onions in the produce aisle.
I did it all for you.
Categories:
dehumidifier, love,
Form: Free verse
The stockings were hung in the bathtub with care with hope that they would become dry by the dehumidifier air
12-22-17
Categories:
dehumidifier, christmas, humor,
Form: Monoku