The Funeral Homes of Bay Ridge

Bay Ridge had the most beautiful funeral homes

The rolling lawns and bushes undulating

The way the deceased never did.

 

Skin

The color of butter

(White with a trickle of jaundice)

Kissed in the casket

The way it wasn’t when alive

 

Priests

Robed black as a coal mine

Faced white as the angel of death

Intone threnodic chant

A latinate raving rant

 

In attendance at the funeral

Are the aging, heaving grannies

Sagging like their plastic grocery bags

Weighed down by cat food and potatoes

Beckoning a last and lonely supper

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 2006

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