The Seated Buddha

[robdaley]

Otosan was a mean sod
beat me with a hanbo.
I poke his ghost-white ashes
as if clearing a hearth.
I pick up the femur.
The priest holds the urn out
like a bank robber
collecting the loot --
I fill it with ribs.
The priest rests the urn
and with a hankachi
wipes his face. I slip
the Buddha bone
into my pocket --
Otosan will not have
a peaceful passage.
The jawbone, the last
of him, I hold up
to my face. Pivot it.
I borrow his voice
make him say sorry.









I poke his ghost-white ashes
as if clearing the hearth.
I pick up the femur.
The priest holds the urn out
like a bank robber
collecting the loot.
I fill it with ribs.
The priest rests the urn
and with a hankachi
wipes his face.
I slip the Buddha’s bone
into my pocket --
Otosan will not have
a peaceful passage.
The jawbone, the last
of him, I hold up
to my face. Pivot it.
I borrow his voice
make him say sorry.