Eventually
each and every
one of us
will be dead.
So, would you
rather rest
eternally
within a deep..
or shallow grave
instead?

I would much rather
decompose
12-feet beneath
the weight
of cold, damp earth..
So that The Flesh
upon my bones
may offer
nourishment
to all its
toothy worms.

That’s why you find
this gloomy undertaker
of the spirit realm
so freely overgiving
late at night.
He’s digging holes
in fleshy soil
of his gray matter
convolution folds..
with all his might.

It isn’t time for him
to go out shopping
for a brutal-looking
tombstone yet..
frivolities like that
can wait until
the day is nigh
upon him..
to greet Death.