Heads loomed around the funeral beds

and a curious westerner said “What did you inherit?”

my nose bled

I didn't inherit an antique chandelier

engraved with our family crest

no one knows where we came from

a gold wedding band received

when I didn’t care much for gold

it hung on an old chain I wore

because I was told it was beautiful

I didn’t inherit a recipe for conch or rice with beans

seems to have died with their thick Haitian accents

Grandfather’s French script bastardized in English print

my hand gnarled arthritic

unlike his own

but I was the son he never had

wait I forgot about my Dad

insult abuse abuse insult abuse bemuse

Dad fights with a ghost but always loses

stumbling around hurt and confused and

He was no Father to my Father

So you’re asking what I fucking inherited?

I guess it’s fair to say

I inherited the son who never knew his Father’s love

This is our family heirloom