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Being dead Is not an event. There is no one Handing out lollipops at the door. As spectator sports go, This one sucks, Big time. Being dead Is a big blanding: Everything tastes the same. Once you've snuffed it Bananas are neither ripe nor unripe. Bananas are concept-negated, A big gone, Spooked off to Nowheresville, Deleted. And chocolate? You can forget about chocolate. Don't get no chocolate-flavored sprinkles on your cornflakes, Not when you're dead. Don't get no cornflakes. Being dead Attracts less than the minimum wage. You thought this was a promotion? Sorry, you were sold A bill of goods. Being dead Lasts for eternity But the age of the short poem Is here And our time is done. |