by C.A. LaRue
                            for Red Fox Man, beloved father

everything tastes of smoke
though the house has had 27 days
to bear your absence

i scrape your tools along cracked
walls that have waited 9.25 years
to mend Katrina scars

mama starts your truck 1x per day,
goes 0 miles: x equals the
qty of gas

dry mouths swallow Mound bars
from the stash you thought you hid in
your desk drawer: 240 calories per

son #1 digs the drain you
laid out for the backyard: 3ft deep,
1 ft wide

son #2 googles that your
remains weigh 6.3lbs, peeks
inside the urn

we sit them beside your birthday cards
(which you missed by days)

no one can move towards home or
dare to take a final sum