As we sort through his attic
a week after the funeral,
I discover a box
of gay male porn magazines
and several weathered videotapes.
The pages of the magazines
are yellowed with cruddy age
and the cardboard covers
of the videos are comic
in their late 70's audacity.
I almost out grandpa
with my laughter
but instead I seal it shut
inside the fine wooden box
he kept himself within,
a polished case of hard cedar
lined with pads of felt and leather,
a casket kept more clean
and cozy than anything outside.
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