I am signing none of the emails with an “x” because
whatever affection he feels for me is not being
transferred. Affection is not a currency. I can’t
make him feel affection just as he is failing to make
me feel affection. I am anxious about my appointment
with the GP though I feel better than I did last year
and the year before. I arrived Saturday. The flight
was fine except for snafus at JFK: immigration queues,
misplaced bags, then my brother Orestes didn’t turn up
so I hailed a taxi. We got lost because I don’t know the way
from the Northern State Parkway. Dad scolded the driver
for lacking a GPS then gave him $100, which sums up
my dad: first the meanness and then the reward.
Kathryn Maris’s most recent poetry collection is God Loves You (Seren). Originally from New York, she now lives in London.
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This article appears in the 04 Jan 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Divided Britain