the easel is outside
he’s painting in the light
he’s got acrylic on his hands
and age in his eyes
there’s nowhere like here: in Ellijay
though i’ll miss the lake
where my grandfather swam
but i will build a new home
one that i understand
there is dust in the corners,
a bathtub in the yard,
children in the bathtub,
and dad is workin’ hard
though it’s far away
it lives in my future
i know that one day
my death will be useful
when i die i will
leave my kids with my debt
when i die i will
become the rain unless