Poetry

My Funeral
by Earl Bergland, 1989

Damn it will you take off the lid
Come on prop me up
Face me to the beach

Boys put my coffin there by the drift log
Where the gals will be sitting
Tapping their toes signaling perfumed hankies
Keeping the mosquitoes from sipping embalming juice

Whoa fool put that keg at my feet
Laughter of friends spirits flowers
Ladies give the gentlemen flowers
Light the fire bratwurst horseradish

Hey band hit those licks Joy To The World
That rainbow riding bullfrog
Then that hot running Ford, Maybeline
Dixie, Issac Hays, Carmen, Stagger lee

Carve John Henry on my pine box
Have another round
Its medicine
Relax the body

Howl at the moon lads
That’s it. Howl away
Rip it out of the gut
It will heal later on

Blow your nose
Taste the salt tears
Empty out the inside
Make a vacuum
Then something sacred
Will have a place to grow

Time to catch the wind gents rig a sail
Launch my pine box a bouquet for the bow
Wade in a ways
Leave the keg
Hell with the deposit
Give her a shove, lads



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