An off-white pew smudged
by fingerprints of all mourners
who come through
dirt poor people pushed
into this narrow hallway
wreathed with dusty fake lilies - Meant to
Honor the dead.
Two names written in the book
But the other lines are empty
as the gap between Front Row Blue-Haired Lady,
whose name I know,
and the Back-Row Tattoo/Piercing Crowd that is
15 rows deep and
15 rows weep
because my cousin is gone-
and the address printed on the memorial is wrong.