Cemetery Tarnation

by Phil Heagy





Let’s whisp around a ghost-world,
unscripted, unin(hibit/habit)dead.

Polite society doesn’t breathe a word down here,
and ’tis comforting to harpoon your “words to live by”:
Frog-march ’em into the past tense
and heigh-ho: your readymade/form-fit/bide-a-wee epitaph!

And by the way, IS the past tense?
I would be —
tombstone-scriveners keep slathering on the third person.
Why should the living have the last word
over my corpse-custard —
“For heaven’s sake,” perhaps?

Rise up, o Lies ‘R Us,
your son’s over the boneyard.
By golly, now you’ll hear and see your
“Spoon River, wider than a mile” —
Every moth-mouth a Jerry Colonna!
Alas, Lazy Chatterdead’s Clover
is pulled over my eyes far too soon:
Froggie comes a-corpse’n and I must hide,
uh huh.



Phil Heagy, retired librarian, lives an exciting life in rural Pennsylvania with a retired-librarian wife and happily-illiterate doggy.  When not penning his (wildly unpublished) poems, he’s busy chiseling out his own epitaph.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s