Originally published on April 30, 2021 on the now-defunct Best American Poetry blog. Republished in The Trouble Clef.
Watercolor on Paper by Lera Auerbach
I am looking at the world globe with my father.
He points and says: “This is where you are.”
“What do you mean? I am here with you,”
I respond, not understanding.
Father laughs: “You are here, but you are also there.”
“You mean there is a tiny copy of me who lives there?”
“No, I mean here is there.”
That did not make any sense, so I never learned geography.
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