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I wonder if he’s watching?
God I’d kill for a Mars Bar.
That’ll be me soon.
Who will write my elegy?
I could always hide in the toilet.
Look at the arse on that.
What if I wrote my own elegy?
It’s been eight years since I smoked.
Who’d wear denim to a funeral but her!
Wonder if anyone’s ever had a root down by that tree?
Does that minister actually read Shooter?
Who brings McDonalds to a cemetery?
Geeze I’d like to smash that woman.
Didn’t clean the ear wax today.
God, this Valium isn’t working.
Is there a God?
Fuck no – you’re just affected by a seduced paradigm.
God would approve Valium – have another.
Who has sex after a funeral?
I’m missing Oprah.
O look at that deep hole –
How much is all this costing?
Who’s paying?
Who will pay for mine?
Look at her tits; big.
This suit is too small.
I need a smoke.
Did they glue his face up?
God, is she looking at me?
I’m not carrying that bastard –
I’m actually very hungry.
Could go her – she’s only a second-cousin.
What is an elegy?
What, crying again?
Geeze I hate funerals.
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Funny and entertaining! I enjoyed it!
Its a funny thing but there is always something wacky about funerals.
Your line Geeze I hate funerals, sums it up.
I have been to too many not to recognise the truth in your poem, the mind wanders all over the place, no matter how deep the loss.
These days I only meet my friends at funerals, often we great each other with, we shall have to stop meeting like this.
Nice one
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