The purpose of today is: want your son.
You want him when he feels it.
He will not know he feels it till you die.
A father-gift is how to do a thing,
so give him, daily, gifts that he can clink
inside his counting-house when you are gone.
By this fidelity the world is healed.
Fathers lacking gifts spread toxic seed: all holocausts are on them
and disdain of your own son is treachery so black all other goods are blacked.
It would be better for the world if you were never born: a pox on your vas deferens.
So hate the Nobel prize and hate the masterpiece and hate the cure for cancer: want your son.
You want him when he feels it.
He will not know he feels it till you die.