Dying Dying is embarrassing Everyone turning away from their lives To look at you And you not there A stage actor who’s forgotten His lines Gossip you can’t hear About how precisely it happened An accident from cancer by your own hand Then the gathering around the casket If you’re Catholic they get to look at you Ironic that it’s called a wake You’re sleeping in forever The shaking papers of eulogies Recollections of your goodness Paving over the potholes of your flaws Assembled guests writhing To quiet their rumbling stomachs Then the embarrassment of the burial The tombstone no one likes Bookends of dates but the books gone Rote words of priest or rabbi The living picturing dirt falling Into your open eyes Then when enough of the casket is covered Walking across the thin green ice of grass You alone broke through Glances over shoulders The guilt of leaving you Alone with the tattooed undertakers The dead snake of the procession coming to life again Turning on the heat or AC depending on the season The empty hearse driving faster Relief of the reception The catering kids who just want to get high or already are Drinks are drunk and soon so too are the mourners The struggle with small paper plates Eclipses of crackers and cheese Dips dripping on ties Tired children disappearing Into the soft nights of their mother’s black dresses As for you it’s nice to have a little quiet Some time to become acquainted with your new digs Sleeping the deepest sleep you’ve ever slept The embarrassment of being The center of attention fading The actor backstage after Salvaging the speech Listening through the curtain To the play go on without him
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Dying
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Dying Dying is embarrassing Everyone turning away from their lives To look at you And you not there A stage actor who’s forgotten His lines Gossip you can’t hear About how precisely it happened An accident from cancer by your own hand Then the gathering around the casket If you’re Catholic they get to look at you Ironic that it’s called a wake You’re sleeping in forever The shaking papers of eulogies Recollections of your goodness Paving over the potholes of your flaws Assembled guests writhing To quiet their rumbling stomachs Then the embarrassment of the burial The tombstone no one likes Bookends of dates but the books gone Rote words of priest or rabbi The living picturing dirt falling Into your open eyes Then when enough of the casket is covered Walking across the thin green ice of grass You alone broke through Glances over shoulders The guilt of leaving you Alone with the tattooed undertakers The dead snake of the procession coming to life again Turning on the heat or AC depending on the season The empty hearse driving faster Relief of the reception The catering kids who just want to get high or already are Drinks are drunk and soon so too are the mourners The struggle with small paper plates Eclipses of crackers and cheese Dips dripping on ties Tired children disappearing Into the soft nights of their mother’s black dresses As for you it’s nice to have a little quiet Some time to become acquainted with your new digs Sleeping the deepest sleep you’ve ever slept The embarrassment of being The center of attention fading The actor backstage after Salvaging the speech Listening through the curtain To the play go on without him