was well attended.
some cried, some stood by
stoically
and said pithy things like,
oh well,
it is what is, if you know
you know,
we all
will eventually die.
i suppose that
it was just his time.
and then
there was the after funeral
feast,
self-served,
back at the house,
where his
bike hung
on the wall.
his tennis racket and running
shoes
on the floor.
there was
a long table of shrimp
and lobster,
filet mignon,
water cress nuts
wrapped
in bacon
on silver trays.
no one was grieving so hard
that they
couldn't eat.
they said things like, remember when
he said this,
or did that?
there was music, but no one
got up to dance
wine,
desserts.
it was a fine Last Supper.
making many
having to loosen the buttons
on their pants.
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