Cold cold ham sandwich

Cold cold ham sandwich


The man in the coffin lay molded to its door
a thin and nervous corpse
victim of a bone disease
they said in cheery whispers
how he had my likeness
except he was a ladies man.

And so seeing I could not make it to the funeral
I went home and lay against the mirror
with the door shut
and saw my neck within a paint-smeared shirt
and thought for a moment it was my father's
brown and sweating neck I saw
I was so tired.

I love well these tunneled eyes
and gentle hands of mine.
Saddest of all would be the laying down
of this faithful mute beast
into a box of burnished steel.