Going To Brooklyn Poem by fanniesson -

I understand when I'm dead I'm dead,
just a soulless piece of meat,
'if there's even such a thing as a soul, lying
in some crematorium somewhere waiting my turn
to be cremated, my ashes then given to,
'actually sent Fed-X.' to the wife within a week,
if she's still alive or one of my kids to be disposed of.

Preferably thrown out a car window
as I'm being driven around the old neighborhood
in Brooklyn where I grew up.

No wakes no viewings no me on display
2- to- 5 PM.7- to-10 PM. a Mass service
to followed 8 AM. after the last viewing
the next morning at some neighborhood church,
I haven't been in since my youngest was Baptized there
forty plus years ago, and they.

Shook me down for five hundred dollars
for what they called,
A 'Nonparticipating Catholic Donation'
'bunch of no good dirty crooks'.

I understand I might not be going to Heaven,
or wherever it is the soul goes, ‘again'.
If there is such a thing as a soul, but.

At least I could go to Brooklyn, and if I remember right.
'That really about 'as good as it gets.'