I walked into the McGinty Funeral Home
and saw this enormous sign
“This funeral is by invitation only”.
I stared at it.
Should I go in?
I know I was not invited.
No one was around.
Who to ask?
The worst they could do is ask me to leave.
I was her friend.
I squared my shoulders and walked through the curtain.
Her family was thrilled to see me!
Almost no one else had come.
I learned from a friend many years later
That the funeral home had been rented out that afternoon
For a Happy Divorce Party.
I figure the sign I saw was part of the festivities.
Whoever had to go to the bathroom left it in the worst possible place though.
I took a sip of water that looked like you,
I have made this so of sorceries new.
I christened words betwixt words behind,
Beyond et cetera, though within mind;
I shut my eyes and robbed today from tomorrow,
I plucked my heart from its timeless sorrow.
Then held the sky atop a fingertip bleeding,
And planted in the wound a heavenly seedling.
How big you seemed, how bright your stage
how loud and funny, in my little boy's eyes
you were larger than everyone else's life,
even a lifetime later, your memory still is
Those amazing vaudeville routines, with new
command performances for each gathering,
were rehearsed in daily kitchen pantomimes
while we children sat in wide eyed awe
An Irish version of the Honeymooners,
so funny that you didn't need Art Carney
so real that sometimes, I held my breath
....to the moon, McGinty, to the moon!
He would bellow and I would nervously ask,
is she really going to the moon, Mommy?
Then they'd be off on another rollicking
road in the evening's riotous repertoire
The quieter types would roll their eyes
when the curtains would part on Act 1
while everyone else laughed and wished
that they could be just like you two
To the moon, McGinty, to the moon....
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