Monday, May 23, 2016


Count Basie and His Orchestra the fun’ral service play
Let cats cut rugs as flappers kipple till the break of day
Let vodka and tequila flow with whiskey through the crowd
And every thought be spoken and each speech be laughed aloud

Release the clowns!  The dancing bears!  Have Nero play his lyre
Confetti streets and motorcades and factories on fire
Shall light the way for mourners come with sparklers and balloons
No thorny walls, no teardrop falls, save for in old cartoons

I am not a dying gate, Porphyria yet lives
The maelstrom is a thing for fools who ledger as they give
And shout demands with silent looks, and club with flowers, cards and books
I can yet travel by the day and cross the running brooks

Be damned to rivers!  Tributaries never brought me joy
In anything!  Cast down the ocean!  The kraken is a toy
For old Greek ghosts who kill their hosts and sieve for water at the coasts
Those who go outside and live are those who ‘member me the most

Seal me in and face me down, dry wood and broken bone
If I am to be interred, best if I go alone

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