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Tanka for Finger Foods at Funerals

television set
of the body dark but still
warm to the touch, was
switched off between commercials
boxed he collects like dust

beneath bereavement
the death of a mechanic
blue collar daughter
sits in front of his ashes
licking clean her fingerprint

just as a child might
erase the mess with the mouth
scorn the cloth napkin
was it all-consuming grief
or transubstantiation

a dusting of him
circular, sticking to her
is this his body?
a grit placed against her tongue
what remains she swallows up

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