When I die, take whatever still works.
Dispose of the rest in a manner
That is the kindest to the earth.
Throw a big party that
I won’t go to even if I were alive
So you can stand around
And say to each other, things about me
That you won’t to say to my face.
Don’t pray for my soul.
The dead don’t care about
Where your vehicle of grief is crashing.
Twenty-one grams of maybes
Will not fill an air bag.
When I die, there will be no fighting
Over which god will receive me.
That is not your concern and these
Are answers that will end
The reason we live.
Cover painting by Romanian artist, Saddo.