Father's Funeral - Breanne Ceranske


At the funeral of my late father
The people came to pay homage
To a “great man” they say and
nod, mmhm, yes, nod, nod

And as the funeral rites commence,
I notice that no one seems to remember how
he beat Mary Ellen, my late mother,
senseless,

Or made “slow” brother Robbie eat
his dinner outside on the back porch
when us “normal” kids were
stone silent at the table

And no one seems to recall how
he stuck his hand down cousin Alice's pants
and she spent years replacing it with other hands,
trying to get it out

No one mentioned how he
would tell me that I should have been his son,
such a pity I was born weak when I was
so strong in words

But we remember, dear father
Oh, how we remember