to high powered telescopes &
the men on the roof at the house next door
who are all my dad 

on the way to middle school after a thunder storm
i'd pick up shingles from the backyard. 
Texture of a fallen gravel driveway, i'd break
them into smaller & smaller pieces before dropping
them back in the dew-wet grass. it made me
worried that our roof was coming apart &
one morning we'd wake up to a pink tangerine sky
staring in at us. i pull the covers up to my neck.
next door they're fixing the roof 
& i watched the workers as they balanced, 
the shiny ladder wobbling with from a breeze.
i stood by in case someone fell & i could catch them
which i know is absurd because they're all full grown
men with tan work boots & i'm maybe 5 foot on a good day.
i mistook them all for dad pacing the roof--
all seven of him with different colored hair &
ladder that go to higher places-- one leaning
against the edge of the moon now that it's dark outside.
if i found a powerful enough telescope, do you
think i can climb it & help him put the shingles
back on the cheek bones of stars, cosmetic surgery
on the skulls of planets & roof tops. 
if they fall i'll catch them, the planets i mean.
i have a waste basket &/or my hands out-stretched.
up in the top of the science building on campus
is where they hoard the ladders to space-- they're
only suited for people who know math but i'm
sneaking up there anyway. be careful, i'm asking
you, i don't want to pick up the pieces of
more men from the driveway. gravel & wrist bone. 
as i observe they began to set up telescopes,
one by one-- the powerful ones that can see
every divot on my dad's skin. he has sun spots
from sitting on roof tops too much & letting
the rays peel off his skin like shingles. 
i walked out onto the driveway & asked one
of them, my dads, to help me up so i could 
take a look. gripped my wrists & hoisted me up--
forget ladders-- ladders are for men. 
i'm always surprised when i stare into a telescope
& things are still so far away.
i bent down & closed one eye. there was dad 
mowing the back yard-- grass staining his ankles.
i thought i could get closer. as i stood up i
found there were no more men on the roof with me.
alone i sat there with the shingles half-done
beneath me-- tucked my legs into my chest &
rolled down like a grassy hill. i broke on
the driveway but i'm used to sleeping in multiple 
pieces. the next morning out back i picked up
each rib & used the staple-gun to fix them in place.