 | What a Way to Go |
 | |
Notice from the Sweet Chariot Funeral Parlor
Marilyn L. Taylor
Due to predicted overcrowding in our
cemeteries, a new service is available
which will see to packing and storing
one’s remains in a space capsule for
eventual launching into Earth’s orbit.
–Discover Magazine
Dear Friend: we
Are operating at capacity
and cannot
supply a green and grassy spot
for your tomb,
as there is no more room.
Instead, you are invited to entrust
your dust
To our space-age morticians, who seal
in stainless steel
(thanks to post-Newtonian science)
our clients.
Whereupon you
(and all your shiny loved ones, too)
shall ascend
via chartered rocketship, to spend
eternity
very near where Heaven used to be.
***
Ms. Taylor’s website.
Well, I always wanted to travel into space…hmmm, was hoping to “see” the sights though.
Marilyn Taylor is terrific! As usual, you show great taste in what you post here. I really like the following one too:
Aunt Eudora’s Harlequin Romance
Marilyn Taylor
She turns the bedlamp on. The book falls open
in her mottled hands, and while she reads
her mouth begins to quiver, forming words
like “Breathless.” “Promise.” “Elope.”
As she turns the leaves, Eudora’s cheek
takes on a bit of bloom. Her frowzy hair
thickens and turns gold, her dim eyes clear,
the wattles vanish from her slender neck.
Her waist, emerging from its ring of flesh,
bends to the side. Breasts that used to hang
like pockets rise and ripen; her long legs
tremble. Her eyes close, she holds her breath–
the steamy pages flutter by, unread,
as lover after lover finds her bed.
Now this is down-to-earth poetry anyone can get his or her head around. Thank you, PQS, for the follow up poem. I think we all have an Aunt Eudora or two in our lives. Jere’s hoping all the grand old dames find moments of flight such as these.
Oh, PQS, that is just beautiful. Thank you.
And you’re right, Mr. Smith: we all have Aunt Eudoras around the edges or maybe right even in the middle of our lives. Yes, let them all get lost in Harlequin Romances…
…night after night after night.
(FYI, my sister, Bethany, reads Harlequin Romances faster than they can put them out.)
Tongue in tomb, Marilyn Taylor’s piece is fun and, Angela, thanks for introducing me to yet another creative talent….never holding a candle to you, however.
Thanks for featuring an exciting new poet. I never would have found Ms. Taylor if it weren’t for zenfetish.