4/30

4/4/13

"When I die," writes the
famous poet and musician
2 Chainz, "bury me inside a Louie store.
When I die, bury me inside a Gucci store."

This may be fine for Tauheed Epps
AKA 2 Chainz, AKA Tity Boi, 
 but I have slightly different ambitions.

When I die, drape me in the love letters 
written and spoken by the woman I married.
I would gather them around me in that long
night, for warmth.  For repose.

When I die, have my daughter grind the bones
of my first finger into a powder fine enough 
to mix with ink, so that she may draw whatever 
solace she need find.

Have my son collect all the buttons from my clothing
and sew them on everything and anything he may desire.
Have him take my veins and create a map 
which he may choose to follow or burn, 
either way they will have served their purpose.

When I die, place my body somewhere 
with a view of the clouds, preferably obscured 
somewhat by the limbs of a sprawling tree. 
Prop me up and say goodbye, make no marker, 
just bones and leaves and sky for me.