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