within a name  

my father's signature
is written clearly 
under both of my eyelids
inscribing himself 
he stands on the pupil 
an ink black island
repeats the three dips 
to form wriggling name
nothing of language or letters
a three peaked mountain
& i lay in bed & 
watch him work for hours
he writes his signature 
so many times he runs out 
of room on the lids 
& starts writing 
in the white of the eyes
a trough of milk
a pale wrist an inverted
inkwell & he presses
the pen each motion
i feel somewhere tectonic 
as if there is a landscape 
faraway & yet buried in me
the three peaks of a written mountain
as if our parent's signatures
leave terrain in us
& he sinks into the ink
a man hiding in my pupil 
fetal position 
shake head back & forth
to rock him
so i go with one shoe on
& no backpack up from
a night & into a signature 
were there's walking to do
in a single written line
mountains come into focus
the wind there playing 
jagged snippets of his voice
i try to coax him out 
but he pretends to stay asleep
on the top of the mountain 
i lay down too
just like him
i write my name 
in the dirt there not
to defile the place 
but to ask what a name
will do within a name
within a name & so on
mine turns to water there 
vein branching all down 
the rocks
bodily & explosive 
i wonder if he's walking
inside his own shut eye
if his father is there 
stranded on his pupil
if he wishes his father would come
out & walk a word 
with him
how a word in ink 
becomes element
a rock 
a tangible 
a sweet rotting floor
i rub the word
off all the walls of my eye
cup the mountain 
in a palm & wash it off
in warm sink water