Deuce and a Quarter

The dust of my father the furnace missed
Is here in his Buick Electra 225
That has been parked, unopened,
In the driveway since his death.
In order to sell it,
We exhume the door to look for papers,

And (surprise) here is his sweat,
Mingled with pitted chrome and wasps’ nests.
Bridle with no horse, plow without a field,
Not even the house was his like this.

And now his death
Is everyday business,
And I am any son
Who must finally remove the plates,
Then phone a truck to pull
This collision away;
A car, like any car.

:: Cornelius Eady, You Don’t Miss Your Water (1995)