My Bucket List Has a Hole in It

While many still turn to the funeral rites that have comforted generations, others, led by baby boomers, are taking a different approach than their parents and grandparents. They are instead choosing individualized and symbolic memorials: a party with a punk-rock band for a tattoo artist, or a gathering at an airport hangar for the devoted mechanic.

WSJ

Bury me not on the lone savanna,

with just my spurs and red bandana.

I've lived a life of frittered fun

and want my journey well-begun.

*

My journey to that higher place

(or lower, maybe, in disgrace)

should start with root beer floats, since I

have loved 'em since my youth so spry.

*

Instead of dirges or shrill chants

I hope they'll have a big square dance;

where fam'ly discord is forgot

and no one acts the rude big shot.

*

Don't praise me or lament my passing

(I know such talk is just pure gassing.)

But read a poem or two I wrote

to get somebody's pompous goat.

*

Pretend that I am sitting nigh,

and telling stories, partly lie.

Let cotton candy fill the pews

(to keep the kiddies from a snooze.)

*

No tears for me, but give a burp

as root beer floats you happy slurp.

Let no one sit in folding chair;

those things provoked me oft to swear.

*

You are my guests, so celebrate!

I'm free at last from mortal freight

and honeycomb and fish I'll broil

before you cover me with soil.