Bud Petal blogs here, and is also on facebook, twitter, vimeo, and instagram.

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Swan Song

When I’ve stepped into my final somnolence
Succumbed and kicked the bucket
Don’t lament or pine for my fate
Just embalm my laughter

When I sit dormant in a vapid tomb
Senseless and pushing up daisies
Do not sob for the slaying of a soul
Do not wish God were alive to see this

When I’ve ebbed and flowed into the void
And joined the dodo ecotope
Please sit content in my noiselessness
Dream of butterflies as big as doves

When I’ve waned into a catacomb
And slipped into Cantor’s Paradise of the Transfinite
Please make sure Venice does not sink
And that the bees keep on dancing

When I’ve washed up on the cadaver shore
And kissed the undertaker
Do not bewail my chosen epitaph:
“Here lies a teapot atheist”

But I am not afraid to dine with the lifeless
Or tumble into my sepulchre
I am not afraid to die
I just don’t want to be there when it happens

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