ON THE NATURE OF FLESH (AND THE FLESH OF NATURE) is a youthful mix of extended metaphor, low humour, rambles about nature, society, capitalism, queer politics and anything else that the poet feels at least mildly strong about.
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The uncomfortable revelation of your father's lack of divinity comes eventually.
It doesn't matter or not if you're in the shower,
Potting begonias in the back of your mother's house so that she doesn't wear out her joints.
As revelations do, the truth strikes hard and fast.
My father is a man.
Things that are observational:
Your father will die.
Your father will make mistakes. He will make bad decisions. He will argue about things he doesn't know about until the point where he's won and you know you're right.
Your father has a body of flesh and blood.
One day, he will fall off his bike at high speed, smash his kneecap again concrete and there will be the worry he won't get back up again.
He does, but another layer of the invulnerability that your childhood coated in him slides off.
When you were six, you dipped him in the river Styx by his foot. He could do anything.
Defeat the monsters under your bed and in the wardrobe and in the far away forest.
Now, old as he is, old as you are, he is all ankle. Pink to the world.
The father of your youth knew every strand the fates weave, could move the future with his own hands. Every golden saying: 'It will be alright,' 'You'll feel better tomorrow' would burn true. Now he still says them, out of habit, though the mountain remains stuck fast. He gets caught out easily by the weather, he forgets the shops close on bank holidays, he misses your favourite film when it's back on at the cinema. Things you can't remember ever happening before.
Things that are theoretical:
It is your fault.
Your father will make mistakes.
Your father will forget the future.
Your father will die.
Your father is a man.
And it is your fault.
If you hadn't grown up as quick as you did, if you hadn't wanted to read illicit magazines and wear tighter clothes and go out at night. If you hadn't thrown out your toys, started smoking socially. If you hadn't started wearing eyeliner and talking back and drinking and fighting and dating maybe your father would've stayed God.
Maybe not.
Things that are certain:
Your father has always been a man.
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