RETIREMENT
the day after his birthday, heartsore—
in the wrinkled sheets, death found him
sleeping in the cloistered darkness of the morgue
weeks later, the electric blanket incubated
a rusted carpet of kleenex blooms
BREAKING THE CORONER’S SEAL
beneath the stained mattress
one blank bullet in the gun—
a drowned halo of light in the waterglass
A DECADE
SINCE I SAW HIM
the embalmer gets his mouth all wrong—
with a red rose on the white satin pillow
I say goodbye to the parent of my Akhmatova nose
TO THE FATHER I NEVER KNEW:
the word rests uneasily on my lips—
suddenly jealous of the young man
who said, He was like a father to me
FAMILY PLOT
where the dead outnumber the living
our shadows circle the casket clockwise
shards of sunlight & whispering feet
LAST DAY OF THE YEAR
after the funeral
I dream of crawling over pictographs
in the desert to find some rest
THICKER THAN WATER
I dream my father’s candle is out—
the slim, musty book he hands back to me
to prove his blood and
mine
My aunt said: He's trying to pleas you.
DUTIFUL DAUGHTER
welfare child, never saw him much
his precious money went to a stranger
my final inheritance—other than my life
12/31/93
