On Christmas someone mentions Ayn Rand
dad says I’m a big believer
in personal accountability,
stood on the graveyard of millions of innocents
I question the accountability he’s not
personally experiencing,
wonder how settler colonialism
factors into his self-helpified worldview,
as a child his mom called the help
the N-word,
told us with penitence we didn’t
know better
then, then
we break to say grace
over the vegetable curry
he’s provided
which is spicy and rich
in consideration given I’m the only vegan
cliche in this poem,
I’m trying to hold myself accountable to the animals
though I’m fully aware this repast spares
hardly anyone,
delicious, do I taste
coriander?
says yes, says he
got the recipe from
Chat GPT
which is drinking more water
than all of us at the table and making us
dumb as the wood,
yesterday I used it
to write a three sentence email,
dad’s smiling, dad’s
trying,
aren’t we all trying?
I finish my plate
then they bring out the lamb
*
Bradon Matthews (he/him) is a Philadelphia-based poet and chronic human being. In his free time he enjoys collecting unanswerable questions and looking for the voice in thunderstorms. His work has previously appeared in HAD, Soundings East, TERSE., Eclectica, and elsewhere. You can find him on Instagram @bradonmatthews