Lost and found in the fire

Raking through the rubble you can find
some embarrassing artifacts like Chin
the Filipino phlebotomist who liked to collect
no, hoard, diamond earrings. and because Chin
survived, this leads to awkward questions

“Do you like to wear them?”
“No, god no. My ears aren’t pierced and I don’t dress like a woman.”
“Were they an inheritance? Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Look. I don’t know. I just like them.”

There is also the boy dog with girl clothes at home
that no one has ever seen him in the light of day in before
there is the classy, professional woman who didnt want anyone to know
she chainsmoked only the cheapest, black cigarettes.
there is also this “How much eggnog were you planning to drink?”

and then there are the less surprising things
the immigrant’s passports smoldered out probably
and buried beneath the ceiling, which is pasted to the floor
the tenant who had lost his mother, and now, her urn.

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