After the store-bought Christmas
dinner was ordered purchased
picked up by me and presented on
ceramic dinner plates because
it is Christmas after all
After dietary preferences were
accommodated wine of both colors
was opened poured and drunk
and the bottles were hauled by me
in a large wicker basket in the dark
to the recycling bin After
the leftover food was scraped
by me into the trash the bowls
rinsed under water that scalded
my hands After the dishwasher
was unloaded and carefully re-
loaded by me with the knives
facing up in order to get clean
After wiping down all visible
surfaces After receiving a call from
an unknown number confirming
burial and not cremation After
reheating two pies of mysterious
interior— After telling the man
on the phone to give me whatever—
After stacking the pies on wire racks
to cool After cutting and presenting
a slice to each member of this family
who arrived like kings
to feast before the funeral After
repeating the time and location
the location and time After procuring
phone chargers pens gum
matches After realizing my mother
was gone for hours in her bedroom
After the stomach lurch of not one
bite or sip of anything crossing
my lips all night my uncle as I bent
to gather his pie-crusted plate
said to me I can’t believe after all
I am the last one of my family
alive and he looked toward my eyes
but looked unseeing through me
twenty-eight years old and woman
and invisible But my father
It’s my father
I want to say but do not say
My father is dead the wrong idea
of it oozing into the air around me
which my uncle and the rest of them
chose not to see—and for which
they will not be forgiven