A father is a father if you’re told he is.
Otherwise how would you know?
Paternity, essential to our genesis,
of course must be presumed: but how
much does it matter who its source is?
No less esteemed a patriarchal clan
than Jews refuse to recognize as Jewish
anyone whose mother wasn’t.
Papa roams, Mama doesn’t.
Fathers are a cipher: not a spiritual stamp.
From points-of-view far too innumerable
to enumerate, dads become de trop:
goods delivered – park the van. Not
that we ought not revere the man – exult
in his carnality! Be deeply glad that dads
get amorous. Their lust accounts for us.