But damned close <br />Medical science has predetermined <br />Maybe a flu, maybe an infection <br />Paragon of salutary well-being <br />Playing you like a two-dollar fiddle. <br /> <br />Welcome visitors from near and beyond <br />Sorry, but that’s all the strength I have for today <br />My heart is throbbing out of phase <br />Accompanied by an aching neck <br />Need to recover soon <br />Or I’ll be carried out on a mortician’s gurney. <br /> <br />Then I thought, maybe I need to wash my hands <br />With carbolic soap, after writing this prose <br />Whoops! Too late – here comes the coffin <br />Covered with lacquer and inlaid with pearls <br />Can I bring to the afterlife my crumpled photo <br />Of when I wore a healthier man’s clothes? <br /> <br />Formidable cemetery with stone turrets <br />With dried-up fountains <br />Rusted iron gates and once roaring lions <br />Painted cherubs with chubby heads <br />And an aging orchestra that plays <br />“Death March of the Marionettes.” <br /> <br />Place me in the ground <br />Surrounded by sculpted cement <br />Toss in a four-leaf-clover for effect <br />Loved ones all head back for a meal <br />No breaks in the line, run the red light <br />God bless the dearly departed. <br /> <br />‘2008’<br /><br />Robert Sheridan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/not-dead-4/
