by Paulie Lipman

I know
the fanciest car at my funeral
will be the one I’m in

scavenged plank/plywood
bonus for graffiti just, please
no Ikea

My second line:
rummaged oil drums
coffee can guitars
solar powered samplers
the most joyous broken beats
praise shouts/metal/punk/funk
gutbucket blues/goth/klezmer
one last glorious dissonance

Stop the procession
before me/the hearse
go over the cliff
Cadillac pyre/nothing
for the carrions/you
can’t be thrown to the wolves
when you’ve always run
with them

No reception
Skip Shiva
Miss the Kaddish
Smash cut/gasoline cremation
no headstone for too long
an epitaph:

I always wanted to be the credible lie
my parents told the world, rather
than the reliable disappointment
they always came home to

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