“they have the father wound”
says the handsome minister
speaking of gangbanging boys
not yet out of their teens

“they have the father wound”
he says again to the interviewer
“fathers take off
or are in prison”

“the father wound”
he says it so gently
candles in soft focus 
behind his graying voice

the father
seemingly not wound tight
despite this knowledge
despite the war outside his church

“the father wound”
cut so deeply
that a sense of wonder
that the minister thinks he can suture it

rises in the listener
upon hearing the phrase 
as if he did not distrust
that collar already 

as if the gangbangers
off-camera were infants
waiting to be picked up
by their fathers’ hands

and cuddled into health
as if assisting them into a dream
would be enough
as if a dream itself would be enough