The funeral was OK
the food afterwards was hardly any better
Dressed up in suits and black,
the stiff and uncomfortable
feeling drifted across me like
the cloud of cigarette smoke
growing outside the front doors
I wasn't prepared to deal
with the situation at hand
I always get the same old
anxieties when I come to these things
I've been to quite a few
Do I say I'm sorry?
or nothing at all?
Do I smile?
or act sad?
We arrived slightly late
so naturally
all eyes on us
...at least for the moment
Avoid eye contact. Keep walking.
Family that I hardly know,
conversations that I don't belong in
the awkwardness set in like
a slow-submerging needle,
beneath my broken skin
the injection drills in deeper
scratching me from my insides,
my hand shaking all the while
as I drive it in myself
The shame when I catch myself
taking too many glances
at the attractive cousin
or some other random gorgeous distant relative
that I never knew I had
The pressure when the immediate family stops to talk
my expression tightens
how do i feel?
my breathing malfunctions
what do i say?
I quickly recover by pointing to a
black and white photograph
purposefully placed amid the rest of the collage
on the tilted white mat board
thank God for those things
The strong men cried
the long-winded women fell silent
a baby was whining during the service
and was promptly
escorted out of the chapel
it is disrespectful, but
with the tension in the room,
who could blame him?