a poem in which i find out my grandmother’s home was repossessed

A Poem

By Anthony Aguero


same place I intentionally misplaced the
definition/ of fatherhood/ for that soft power,
but power nonetheless,/ of all mothers.
same place I had my first cup of coffee with
cream and sugar/ that warmth expanding
and expanding and ad infinitum/ until the first
law/ of thermodynamics/ comes to mind/ and
maybe her home can never really be taken away
and it’s the same place I — and the same place I —
maybe it’s the hand in my chest holding me up.
an infrastructure of beams and walls/ built and
placed together with her hands./ that soft power,
but power nonetheless,/ expanding and expanding/
until it is left with nothing more than to love/
that flame many poets have written of.
how a body can never be repossessed.