Propped in a polished coffin
to offer views [my first dead-
facing-up-to] – my father – he
had met so many bodies – his
work led him to mortuaries –
to mortician humour – in his
made-up stiffness no hint of
movement [no rush of blood
to feel] – my last recall of him
was reinforced by that sight –
My father stands dead every
father’s day – there his place