Walking my 77 year old dog (in human years)
thru the foggy, pre-dawn hours. Giving her relief.
She is coated in the rain drenched grass, six inches high.
She is slick, black, like my shiny soaked shoes.
Looking down, I realize that I feel as if I am wearing
ENORMOUS RED CLOWN BOOTS.
We sit.
I begin to laugh,
“It’s my funeral! I want dancing clowns blowing horns
as they lay me to rest into my grave!”
I blurt,
“It’s MY FUNERAL! I want to be decked out with
a BIG RED SMILE PAINTED ON MY FACE, BELLS AROUND MY NECK,
A JOLLY CLOWN IN A CASKET!”
I imagine the scene in the grey parlor, a proper send-off.
We begin to walk home,
When I realize,
that my STUNNED NEIGHBOR had HEARD IT ALL!
Categories: Manic Beatnik Riffing
Ah, those moments of getting caught! There were so many worse things you could have been doing besides shouting about your funeral. Consider yourself lucky! š
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The whole experience was hilarious!
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Very funny!
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Happy you see the humor in it. At first I was concerned, that my audience would be ‘concerned’ at me. It’s a riot!
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Good to be prepared. As for coffins, I prefer the Mount Calvary model with the imitation mahogany veneer on chipboard and plastic-chrome handles. The retort is on stand-by!
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Love this, makes you laugh even harder when you realize someone heard you! Wonderful! ~ Mia
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This really happened. I came home laughing harder and harder. Finally thought, I must sleep, I am getting loopy! š
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š
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