Styrofoam Plates

There’s a saltwater film on the jar of your ashes
I threw them to sea but a gust blew them backwards and the sting in my eyes
Which you then inflicted was par for the course just as when you were living
It’s no stretch to say you were not quite a father but a donor of seeds to a
poor single mother
That would raise us alone
We never saw the money that
Went down your throat
Through the hole in your belly
Thirteen years old in the suburbs of Denver
Standing in line for Thanksgiving dinner at the catholic church
The servers wore crosses
To shield from the sufferance plaguing the others
Styrofoam plates, cafeteria tables
Charity reeks of cheap wine and pity
And I’m thinking of you, I do every year
When we count all our blessings
And wonder what we’re doing here
You’re a disgrace to the concept of family
The priest won’t divulge that fact in his homily
And I’ll stand up and scream
If the mourning remain quiet
You can deck out a lie in a suit but I won’t buy it
I won’t join in the procession that’s speaking their piece
Using five dollar words while praising his integrity
And just cause he’s gone it doesn’t change the fact
He was a bastard in life thus a bastard in death, yeah