My Stroke of Luck

My first day: I buried him.
I buried him in the first box that wasn't mine.

The alphabetical students obediently
filled out their family details,
emergency contacts,
while I tried to impress
my new master

"Father's Occupation"

I filled in that hole
with the dirt
of the word
Invalid.

Not hurt.
Not retired.
Not valid.

And my Father,
Luckily,
was too slow
to catch me at it.