a poem on the subject of toxic masculinity

a little late for national poetry day but what the heck. i wrote this piece over the past few months and won a poetry slam with it a few days ago.
  1. the sink stopped leaking but this kid still rolls the wrong way
    i mean, the handles turn the wrong way.
  2. my dad does this thing where gets real savvy when he's drunk and tries to fix the kitchen sink
    or his relationship with his kids, or his marriage.
  3. he come drunk and we play cards and my mom burns her hands in hot water
    i mean, my dad bangs his fists on the table. i mean, he's got a hot temper.
  4. i'm always first dealer
    it's tradition, or comfort?
  5. my dad drives home drunk and asks my mom, "what's for dinner?" and she says, "roadkill"
  6. that night i have a dream that i'm scraping skin of pavement
    a woman is screaming
  7. i find baby bones and label them toothpicks. set them on the stovetop, which is somehow on the highway.
  8. he wakes up hungover and says he wants pancakes. i tell him he has guilt in his teeth.
  9. when i was 6 i placed my fingers on either side of my sternum and pried my chest open like a clam shell
    i let the neighbor kids poke at my slimy purple flesh and woke up to sweltering heat.
  10. that day, i watched my dad and his friend wedge screwdrivers between the shells of oysters so they could wolf them raw.
  11. i coughed up muscle until i was nothing but shell
    sipped beer and shook until i was foam.
  12. i used to imagine my dad's truck a sailing ship. drink sloshing, he toasts the sky
    tells his wailing woman that this turbulence is nothing to fear.
  13. every time he breaks her shell, she searches for her first home like a lost crab
    i watch her eyes glaze over while she cracks her own skin to feed him dinner.
  14. my dad's misogyny is a generations old heirloom
    passed down from his father like tomato seeds.
  15. my little brother has no interest in dirt.
    my dad says, "he will learn" without ever opening his mouth.
  16. joshua steals sips of our mother's wine and bangs his fists on the table.
  17. our last name means thunder and my dad takes this too seriously
    he's always booming.
  18. when he taught me how to drive he said, "never swerve for deer. you are better off hitting it than landing in a ditch"
  19. yesterday, a plastic bag morphed into a seagull and i did not hit it
    last night i dreamt i was a helpless mother. tonight, i fear i am roadkill.
  20. in some translations of the new testament, joshua is mistaken for jesus
    my brother is no savior
  21. he's a howling wind
    the whimper of a hurt dog disguised as a moon song.
  22. my dad likes to play god
    he sacrificed his own son in the name of good. i mean, god
  23. i mean, he gets drunk on his son's blood and feels better
    i mean, he never learned to apologize for his own sins.
  24. when i told my mom i don't believe in god anymore, she said she understands.
    it is hard to love someone who doesn't know how to love you back
  25. who says you are broken
  26. who says you are not good enough for heaven
    i mean, him.