Hamburger Obituary
Dust to Dust Poem
This week two deaths, wait for the third,
thud it makes that drum ba dum bum ching sound,
bad timing humor hits me on the back side of the head.
For thirty years I assumed In and Out was expensive.
Never bought double double, bucks hamburger meat dread,
held a grudge because I blame them for my father’s early death.
Snuck greasy wrappers in the outside bins under grass clippings.
I’m no devout vegan, in and out of vegetarian; offer homemade
barbecue, and my diet opinions remain on a wind's silent breath.
Be polite, endure high cholesterol, drink your mojito, and smile.
Ear tagged cattle roam, luxury grazers on thousands of acres.
I ask on Instagram to name bobby calves and got snickers…
A calf lives carefree, except for howls of lard coyotes at night.
Spring ends, ship to Japan for Viagra sex power in this breed.
Last year, calf went down, that’s what the cowboys say, right.
Mamma cows, yes, a group of them, say shiva with the baby.
Injured or dead don’t leave one behind, may heaven comfort.
The bulls are kind, keep family that humans divorce, discard.
Ghusl washes like sunlight on a clothesline, to constellations.
Funerals make me nostalgic.
Old loves run my mind.
What did I do wrong?
When did you give me the crucifix?
When the gold clasp meets the cross:
time for a Hail Mary.
Vibhuti from the funeral on my face,
as the priest does on Ash Wednesday.
A haboob before white linen sheet.
Wipe off the dirt on my forehead?
No worry
I'm in Heaven
and soul full of grace,
can't wait to see you again.
Dust to Dust sticks to smoky tallow.
Caroline Gerardo copyright © October 18, 2017
photographs and poem all rights reserved "Obituary"
