This is foolish.Not where I want to be. Eyes fall on me.I make guesses about the identities of the gawkers.So-and-so’s sister.So-and-so’s kid. Who I am,they know well enough.Yet, always and everthe snickeringand resentful notionsthat I must endurebecause I am the outsider.A black sheep of a black sheep. Who is that boy in the funeral home?Dressed…