Tone Deaf
       

Who can blame the piano player
when no one in my family can carry a tune?
The nuns labeled us "mouthers" long ago.

Even my brother, who imagines himself
a choirboy, even my sister, who sold her soul
for Elvis and married a stranger for his similar

sneer. She wants it back now, that soul.
At our mother's funeral, organ hymns seep out
invisible speakers, none of us humming

what we know the words to. Our father clears
his throat in lieu of tears, then asks
the kindly dog-faced man to shut it off.

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