I didnt write a poem for Father’s Day.
I imagined writing a satirical Facebook post.
I realized that’s too weird.
Mrs. Elnora from church
would toss her cane.
Helena’s wig would fly off.
My grandma would call 
confused by my joke 
to tell me her prayers
had paid off 
if we had spoken.
Friends would do spit takes,
double check that
they’d read it right.
My dad would rise
from a figurative grave.
Or maybe he could burry himself.

My boss said she is glad
I didnt try to pick up a shift Sunday,
because it was a holiday.
I told her I don’t celebrate and 
I wouldn’t have remembered
to ask for overtime pay.