by Richard King Perkins II
A man named Moon, an eagerly helpful guy
we only ever knew him as Moon
he rented a room or an apartment from my parents
he didn’t work maybe he paid the rent in weed
maybe he paid in some other way.
When I imagine his face it looks so much
like my younger brother’s does now, not like me
certainly not like my father who was gone
for a very long time once when I was three
maybe the hospital or jail or he just needed
to get away for a while.
When my dad returned, Moon soon disappeared,
permanently eclipsed. I’m sure my dad killed him
and stole his baby son, not from jealousy or anger,
not anything petty.
It was just his way.