tonight I started walking back to you father
it was meant to be a stroll but then I started
walking faster father I started chanting all
the names of all the men I ever went to bed
with father my thighs were burning and my feet
were heavy with blood but I kept the pace and chants
of names up father listed them to fence posts
and the trees and didn’t stop and started getting
younger father and walked all night till I was home
just a spark in your groin again and told you not
to bring me back to life told you I repented
every name and had freed them of me father
Andrew McMillan (Australia, 1957-2012)
from Poetry (issue September 2017), to buy the magazine: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/subscribe