There's a saltwater film

On the jar of your ashes

I threw them to sea

But a gust blew them backwards

And the sting in my eyes

Which you then inflicted

Was par for the course

Just as when you were living

It's no stretch to say

You were not quite a father

But a donor of seeds

To a poor single mother

That would raise us alone

We never saw the money

That went down your throat

Through the hole in your belly

Thirteen years old

In the suburbs of Denver

Standing in line

For Thanksgiving dinner

At the Catholic church

The servers wore crosses

To shield from the sufferance

Plaguing the others

Styrofoam plates cafeteria tables

Charity reeks of cheap wine and pity

And I'm thinking of you

I do every year

When we count all our blessings

And wonder what we're doing here

You're a disgrace

To the concept of family

The priest won't divulge

That fact in his homily

And I'll stand up and scream

If the mourning remain quiet

You can deck out a lie

In a suit but I won't buy it

I won't join in the procession

That's speaking their peace

Using five-dollar words

While praising his integrity

And just 'cause he's gone

It doesn't change the fact

He was a b*****d in life

Thus a b*****d in death