X @Raoul Pal

there was a hole in the yardthat dad sometimes sat inwhen it rainedhoping that the senseless accumulationwould raise his bodywith the tide of the riverthough it never didand he’d climb the same aluminum ladderhis dad didand do what the rain was incapable ofhe was quieter on those nightssometimes studying the absence from the windowafter his failurewhile mom scraped uneaten leftoversinto a trash can that grew with our beltsafter our sister passedhe filled the holewith objects he’d bought from garage sales ov ...