had a dream of my father last night
sitting across from me in a ferry
going which way, I have no clue
he faced the water, he wouldn’t look at me
he seemed mad at me, like he knew
I wanted to ask him
about the time he wanted to die
but I remained silent
the winds played with his thick mane
the low gray clouds behind him
ushered him back
I woke up sad
must have been a thousand years old,
those scars on her hand
when she forgot her looks and
her dreams ran out the door
yet
that yellow still makes her dizzy
and her tongue still prefers what’s fizzy
maybe her soul hasn’t lost its spark
maybe she hasn’t lost her life
just yet
I wonder if the Hulk ever hit his mother.
Did he ever graze her cheek
with his massive green fist so fast,
so hard, she couldn’t speak?
Throw her out of his room,
out the window, out of the house?
And I wonder if when he returned to normal,
did he recognize her scars, her hurt.
I bet he couldn’t remember–like him.
Darts his eyes from the display of pain.
Doesn’t move when she flinches away.
Doesn’t recognize the tears
because he can’t remain.
And I wonder if Stan Lee understands
what it really means to love the Hulk?
To stand in his way regardless.
The supernatural drive to help him stay calm,
despite the horror, despite the harm.
The relentless love at stake…
all the tender, godforsaken love it takes.
this must be what the seas of Greece look like,
so blue it looks white
the water so deceiving
this must be what normal feels like,
so chill it’s like sleep
the peace I hear it leaving
this must be what perfection tastes like,
so fake it seems real
the day it leaves me grieving
the demon he carried was larger than him
he was unaware but I saw it
and I was just a little girl
this man who smelled of cigars and aging skin
barely spoke, but he had all the baby dolls lined up
and I’m sure he touched them all
including me, innocent and small
this man who crept in with the shadows
when he thought I was asleep, didn’t have a clue
I could turn into a statue and not make a peep
this man was naught, this man who was a creep.
The Tape House 