Dustus Blog

Please bury me beneath a Palmetto tree
No need to mark the site
Perhaps scatter my ash off a tall stilted pier
On a clear quiet starry filled night

I wouldn’t mind if you toss my remains
In a city stamped white plastic bag
It doesn’t matter; leave me curbed
Alongside recyclables of bottles & cans

(Just like good ole Neighbor Dan
Who died of ragging alcoholism 
[as per his quest]
God I miss his dark humor⁠—
Being trash-bagged once dead was his morbid idea)

Any way, I don’t care
Knowing my spirit lives
So who needs some cushy, pricey, satin-lined box
Or grandiose mausoleum outhouse digs?

(Dignity often precludes the worst imaginable)

So let us then take a poll:
All you departed ladies & gents⁠—
Please raise your hands…
Hmm…  just as I figured; not a single response
So like them, I too am unconcerned

I’d much rather you exhume my book
Or maybe undo cancellation of this ‘site⁠—
Either way… All the best
Which is a given while I’m still alive 

This entry was posted on June 17, 2019 at 3:40 pm and is filed under Poetry, writing with tags art, dark humor, death, dustus, funeral arrangements, Neighbor Dan, post mortem, tundra. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.