States and Princes

by Dan Rosenberg

the us overwhelms

– Cole Swensen

Still in bed and it’s almost afternoon, nursing the clutch of needles

behind my right eye, my second grader beside me wrapped around

his Switch, fingers twitching almost imperceptibly to make his

avatar stack and destroy various blocks. I tell him I’m the biggest

snuggler and he says prove it but never flicks his eyes up from the

screen. Two boys in our undies, stinking up the bedroom, and as I

slip my arms around his entire body, I think of Donne negging the

sun. This bed thy center is, these walls thy sphere. He stakes a lover’s

claim, but the mysterious she is silent, a site. Here, my son is

building a world and wants me to watch. If I don’t speak for too

long, even with his legs propped on my legs, he calls out, Dad? like

I might have slipped away. There is so much he can create, but no

recipes in the game, so he wants me to look them up. And because

I can find for him instructions, I do. I tell him how to craft

diamond armor, even though he’s impossibly safe. I tell him how

to brew potions of healing, even though he cannot come to harm.