Beautiful Coffin Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Egomaniac,
Look at the stars-now tilt your head back
And take your medicine,
Pick some strawberries, call your dad-

You have a book at harvard,
$400,000 in the bank.
The corona virus is not so bad.

At 9,0000 ft, you can ride the bard's
Back up to the nape of the muse
And pick her grapes
As she is indisposed-

If you even go to sleep,
your children will ride your Pegasus into
The clouds-
And the gods, as you know them
Will even come down

And gather around you-
And from time to time, want to become
Cops and robbers
and to capitulate behind your house

Where the best snakes live-
And then you will have justice.
And drink your beer
And hold hands with your lover
Next to the sea-

Your father will be defeated in his own
Way and ride off into the sunset-
And the clouds will comb over
The airplanes

And the stewardesses in their airy
Boidoires will slumber in the solace
Of ancient drugs the first
Gods gave to them-

Some restuarants will do well.
The sea itself will try to make up for
The mermaid's failures. Let's see if she makes
It-Only time will tell-

Your sisters, where are they?
There is a crack in the bell-
And a river runs through the hills
And down to her knees-

This is the only thing she believes in,
beautiful coffin,
And I am sure all of her sisters are just
figments of her makebelieve.