While I Was In Providence

While I Was In Providence

George slid off the living room wall
military pleats intact
medals decorating the breast
his black and white still-life
fallen from the cheaply constructed
apartment wall
colored pushpin missing
behind my rent to own sofa.
While I was away
he couldn't bear
looking at my mother
across the room on the wall
her full grayscale lips
still mouthing things left unsaid-
why he died before the turkey was carved
before my sister and I were raised
with the Buick in need of repair
and four other women's names
on the dotted line of his insurance policy.
Maybe he didn't die
but snuck back to Japan
a stowaway on some Navy vessel
to whisper koigokoro
in the ear of his Geisha girl
never again to return to that place
impersonating a home.
Only one fell down while I was away
my father's
maybe just liquored up enough
to slip off the push pin
holding my memory of him in place.