Funeral

Before I knew you, your grandfather died,

You refused to look at him.

Your father had to close the casket.

I find it a waste of time to consider the wishes of the dead but,

when I die I want to become a tree.

Death can freeze someone in time,

it can do many strange things.

“Here one minute, gone the next”

does not make any sense and I will be stuck until I see a body

or am the body.

You however,

are unable to face the reality of cold skinned death,

a corpse makes such reality far too difficult to ignore.

I cannot blame you.

This is why I do not want a casket.

but then again, it's all the same to me because

funerals are for the living

and I am utterly ecstatic I will never endure my own.

Friends and strangers and you, will dress like shadows and pose questions to god.

I will be neatly filed in a coffin to collect dirt and dust.

Tears spilling across handkerchiefs and elm,

as I am summarized inside a eulogy.

It is likely awful but,

I can make no remark, I do not hear a single word.

And there is nothing I want less than to spend eternity locked in a box

but still my wishes do not matter.

I do not believe in souls and I cannot haunt you.

Funerals are for the living.

And so I will be immortalized in a condition suitable for them.

I will me made up and locked away and buried

all before I begin to rot.

Only the worms will see my true form and you among the living,

can mourn me, not as I am but,

as I was.

but now it appears I was wrong,

my unfinished business seems to be to suffer through

this service on my own