When I die of heatstroke



The Thirty-One Days of Poetry (2013 Edition)

Day - the Fourth






When I die of heatstroke




If I die of heatstroke -
of which there is a 97% chance
I will, sometime in the next 37 hours,
just you wait -
so if WHEN I die of heatstroke
I want to be freeze-dried -
I've been hot enough for one lifetime,
thank you; no cremation here -
then pounded into smithereens,
then I want those smithereens to be
rendered into a beautiful sketch of a
half-starved giant panther and a feral
flesh-eating low-mountain silverback gorilla
fighting over the body of a still-alive-but-just-barely
four-year-old boy - half-Filipino half-not-entirely-sure
(because his mother wouldn't say 
and why is it your business anyway 
and why are we so obsessed with ethnicity - 
love see no color (and speaking of which: 
whatever color his father is/was goes 
perfectly with his mother because the kid is GORGEOUS)
who would have grown up to invent
some sort of pillow that actually -
in fact not just pretend but actually -
keeps your head cool but ironically
(well not so much ironically but SOMETHINGically)
not soon enough for me, and the sketch
should be put under glass to protect it,
although that may be too hot too,
so maybe leave it out to get fresh air.

You can play it by ear.











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1 comment:

Ltrain said...

Something tells me that a court would uphold this as a bona fide last will and testament, if it came to it. Perhaps questions of forgery loom smaller in this particular circumstance.