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stork daddy
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when he was younger he'd have trouble sleeping if he couldn't hear his parents discussing in deep tones and various inflections inscrutable words. they were preparing and tailoring a world for him. now he lies in his bed alone in his apartment, going over some argument or another he has to put forth tomorrow before a judge. and outside his apartment, the bread factory across the street is having a delivery truck convention. the workers signal and pace in a strange language. he wants to ask his father questions, to seek out a judge he can win over, to see how it's done. he wants to hear his parents talking in the other room. but the low hums of the trucks and the muffled and vague resemblances to words he knows coming from across the street will have to do.
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