His Funeral

Poetry by Ralph La Rosa

Leaning close, Frank whispers urgently,
“You shoulda wore a black suit, this’s navy,”
not the first to remind Vic as old guys squeeze
his hand until it hurts. Black suits and ties.

Frank hangs on tight, face angry, sad and sorry:
“Your dad’s partner, Tony, he’s insulting him.”
Vic had quit the seminary, assured his mother
he’d work in the business with his father’s partner.

“And he makes filthy cracks about your mother.
Family’s friends, they’re pissed.” Frank’s grip tightens.
As more dark murmurs of betrayal reach Vic,
his bones know that his hand will have to hurt.

Bio: Ralph La Rosa is a Poet from Los Angeles, California. His poetry appears widely on the Internet, in print journals and anthologies, and in the chapbook Sonnet Stanzas and full-length collections Ghost Trees and My Miscellaneous Muse.

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