My Father Died

My father died
so now I am my mother's husband

in the middle of the night

I am a monster
of self-absorption
and find her tiny polite dying

horribly intrusive

One night, I'll be brief
and the next night

find the pleasure of her company
like a good husband

I'll talk an hour with her
anticipating future grief

Now she's decided
to be buried beside my father again

I mean she's flip-flopped
I don't mean she was already buried

I don't know what's changed
in her relationship
with his ghost

but apparently something has

Nobody else calls me anymore
since I shut the fucking door

I mean the door on fucking
strangers and other friends

I'm so sorry Mother
that I laughed tonight
when hard-pressed for conversation

you asked, "Why do we have toenails?"

I'm glad you laughed with me
and as hard as me

but then you said "What's funny?"

and I didn't want to explain existentialism
because why bother

so i simply said Toenails