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