Short Stories, Long Odds

Come, let us renew ourselves
here, with each other.
Normally we sit on shelves
and deny that we are brothers

because there’s no money
in it. The best way to know
who you are these days, the key
is to look to others, so

that you can learn a little about
you. If I am a stranger still
after all this time we’ve gone without,
then I’ll know it was your will.

I was lucky this year to see
my brother at Christmas. He’s been
in Oregon for years now
with his lovely wife Sarah
and snow dog Clancy.

As we’ve gotten older I have
come to think we look less and less alike.
I have never felt that we shared much
of a physical resemblance: My legs
are short – I’m all torso, while my brother

is built more evenly, a solid foundation
he’s worn well for most of 38 years.
My belief for a long time was that most of what we shared
was an occasional deep melancholy and
a deeper thing for brunettes.

But now I have been his brother
for every day of 30 years. Although we are
separated by years in age (and years apart), he is in
my kitchen or my office when I
laugh suddenly, or

do an impression of The Man.  Now
you can see the resemblance
more in how we act and
who we’ve become than
how we look.

We all had Christmas on Twitter this year -

now, at the holidays, instead
of not thinking of you

(and, as a result, relegating you
to non-holiday status,

forcing you to exist only
in the ether of memory
between when I can see you
and when I cannot)

instead now I know how you
feel about your mom and
fight with your husband and

hate Christmas and
seemingly, regret having kids.

(This is why you belong in the ether.)

Mostly though, between my own tweets
about being with my family and
our exact location and
about when Diana’s driving surely
saved us along the scary way home on the ice

I am glad we didn’t get robbed.

In my father’s house:
there is no escape
from The Fart Game

Sound is a hammer
and memories are stone,

and this city is an anvil
where the writer sits,

and days pass as glammer
while revisions are honed;

We all pay the bill
but who receives the benefit?

(to whom we cede the benefit)