all my fathers are dead
all my mothers are dying

In asking a mother who the biological father, or fathers as it were, for her children you must be prepared for self-defense. She does not want to be seen as cold, callous, or a whore. She does not want to be cornered, or go to war for her own decisions that were made over 25 years earlier when she was just a baby herself. She does not want to remember the names, the faces, the sweat, the sound of them slamming the door behind them when they went home to their wives, children, homes, and histories. She was their fleeting moment; their unfinished business after 5 pm, before dinner was was served at 6. And none of that bothers her children. They've always known her for her bad decisions. What bothers her children was how much she liked it. How much she needed it and went out of her way to find it, and do it, leaving them unattended. Rushing off to local parks to fuck in a backseat while her children, all under 5, scurried around an apartment seeking out bread and butter from the kitchen not walking there, but jumping from stair, to couch, to dining room chairs, to table, to kitchen floor to avoid the fleas that infested unvacuumed carpets. But they always tried to love her, accept her, tell her how much they did when she returned home smiling, drunk, off balance with her mascara running into dirty pools on her already stained with sweat, and cum, and tears tanktops.

In asking a mother who the biological father, or fathers as it were, for her children you must be prepared for honesty. She may give you names, descriptions, careers, thoughts you never wanted to know, imagine, have, or call home. When the name is spoken it will never leave your brain. It will be tattooed on it until you die and you have to accept that in asking her, this will happen. And none of that bothers her children. They've always known some of them my not belong to the same father. What bothers her children was that her voice was the one they would hear until they died saying the name. "Jim". "Jim". "Your father's name is Jim." Her slippery, confused, embarrassed, sloppy voice saying a man's name she's said before, maybe even when you were conceived, but now it's different. She is telling you that after 25 years there will be another name to remember. And a fathers name, belongs to us. To you. Jim belongs to you.


In asking a mother who the biological father, or fathers as it were, for her children you must be prepared for dishonesty. She will avoid her betrayal, her lust, her desire, and her wrongdoing. She will say her mother sent her away too young. She will say she started to drink because her father was a drinker. She will say she was too young to know any better. She will say they made her. She will say she needed money. She will say she was a good mother. She will shake her head no when you tell her she abandoned you in a locked house for days to get laid and drink on binges. She will refuse to believe she never remembered your birthday. She will say you are a liar when you remind her how she told you to lie when she was seeing other men and didnt want the man you thought was your father to know. She will say that children dont know anything. That their memories are misguided. That you dont love her. That you are punishing her.

In asking a mother who the biological father, or fathers as it were, for her children you must already know it will break your heart.