Joanna Gilman Hyde

The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:11pm

“Our Family deals with Its Dead

in a peculiar way

My Dad is buried under The Pine Tree named Helmuth

— Not My Dad but His Ashes —

We go sometimes & pour beer on Him

because He liked beer

He was in a one-gallon ice cream container

in the trunk of Mom’s Chevy Nova —

before The Pine Tree

My Father, Helmuth Art Putz, was in a beer stein

about a foot and a half tall

That Pine Tree grows exponentially —

Here’s Your Mom, in a golden box —

I was prying It open with a screwdriver —

I wasn’t sure if the ashes were really My Mother —

after We threw My Mom & Granmom into the river

— not Them, Their ashes —

We asked for a sign

all the lilly pads were stagnating

We threw in irises

a blue heron flew overhead

& the lilly pads lifted up”