I have my father’s restlessness

I have my father’s restlessness
A generational habit to be uneasy.
My watching eyes relentless.
Staring, pestering, queasy
As I twiddle my thumbs around.
Accusatory lips bring life
To words once without sound
Cutting like a surgical knife
Putting the Other into ground.
Separating them from myself
By way of insult and overt
Injustice.  I put them on the shelf
Hide from me.  For I know not,
My power.

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