LONELY FUNERAL Comments

The man of ash says, take my urn
by my waist, that's right, like that
don't scatter me here on the prescribed
lawn, on last year's ashes. Scatter me

as a trail of crumbs where people hurry
and worry that this or that needs doing.
Lay my shrunken brain, my arthritic feet
under the rail of the fly-over

(a heap of no account, but still a heap)
so that as troubling dust I'll still
blow somewhere on speeding cars.
Still light. Still there.
...
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