MATTRESS
I see my father
as from the house where he grew up
carries a thick, heavy mattress on his shoulders
I watch him as he carries it bent to the dumpster
the mattress on which they died
his mother, father, and sister
sweated he lights a cigarette, and explains to me:
you saw it yourself, I had to throw it away
it is worthless
it gave its soul
and even that yellow stain could not have been washed off