Irony brought me to this earth.
Irony will remove me the same.
Six pallbearers too busy worrying
about a slip, a fall, or a facial fault.
The world will not suffer a massive pall,
a temporary drought or hurricane,
a California firestorm, or a mountain landslide,
or an apocalyptic visit by your Jesus.
None of that for me, just a quiet song
“great gig in the sky,” or maybe a Lindsey
and Stevie lullaby, my little act of humanism.
This is my word to the world no one will hear.