Forgiveness Parade. Jeffrey McDaniel

for the seasons of carving

      words into weapons and lining him up

      for target practice, say that’s kerosene

       under the bridge. You did your best.

      But the mercenaries I hired to obliterate

      my feelings return, with venom

      on their breath, and I launch a fuck you,

      for old time’s sake, at the bull’s-eye on his chest.

      UNCLE EGGPLANT

      When I was a teenager,

      my parents would go away

      and stick me with the job

      of watching blind Uncle Harry.

      I’d buckle him in the front

      seat of my Chevy Nova

      and take him with me

      on drug runs into the city.

      Okay, Har, you wait here —

      I’m gonna dash into this flower

      shop and pick up the azaleas.

      One day, I returned to the car,

      and Harry was gone. I sped

      home, placed an eggplant

      on his pillow, and told my

      parents I found him this way.

      THE DOLL HOUSE

      When my uncle died,

      it was decided

      to build a doll house

      out of his bones.

      After some hot water

      and lots of scrubbing,

      we were ready.

      With my sister and I

      perched at either shoulder

      and an army of screws,

      Dad began to build.

      A sense of calm came

      over the family and

      hovered there, smugly.

      It was like Christmas

      all over again,

      only this time

      no one got spanked.

      THE OBVIOUS

      We didn’t deny the obvious,

      but we didn’t entirely accept it either.

      I mean, we said hello to it each morning

      in the foyer. We patted its little head

      as it made a mess in the backyard,

      but we never nurtured it.