Antigone Détente
by Bill Yarrow
I'm that age, I guess. People keep asking me
what I want for my funeral. I don't give a shit.
Let the dogs lick my bones. Throw my ashes
out the window. If I die in the autumn, rake
the orange leaves over my arms. Put my
clavicle on your mantel. Feel free to laminate
So they asked his wife and daughters and sons
what they wanted for their father, and they said,
Bury the bastard. Serves him right for being glib.
what I want for my funeral. I don't give a shit.
Let the dogs lick my bones. Throw my ashes
out the window. If I die in the autumn, rake
the orange leaves over my arms. Put my
clavicle on your mantel. Feel free to laminate
my lungs. Toss my heart off the dock. Use
me if you run out of dark molasses or caulk.
Make origami or a caftan or wicker furniture
or a raku pot of me. Tan my hide. Feed me
to rabid macaques. Dissolve me in nitric acid.
Water the garden of my face. Give Achilles
free reign to drag me through the mud. Don't
me if you run out of dark molasses or caulk.
Make origami or a caftan or wicker furniture
or a raku pot of me. Tan my hide. Feed me
to rabid macaques. Dissolve me in nitric acid.
Water the garden of my face. Give Achilles
free reign to drag me through the mud. Don't
feel guilty. It's OK, really. I, Priam, absolve you.
So they asked his wife and daughters and sons
what they wanted for their father, and they said,
Just bury him. He said he wanted us to be happy.
So they asked his wife and daughters and sons
what they wanted for their father, and they said,
Just bury him. He said he wanted us to be happy.
ALT ENDING
So they asked his wife and daughters and sons
what they wanted for their father, and they said,
Bury the bastard. Serves him right for being glib.
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Author's Note
A version of this poem appeared in Connotation Press.
Thank you, Joani Reese.
Version with alternate ending appears in Blasphemer (Lit Fest Press 2015).
Other stories by Bill Yarrow
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I remember this piece. The ending stuck with me.*
I would love to have this read at my funeral- but not too soon. Wonderful insight Bill
My pleasure, Mr. Yarrow.
Gone, but not remembered. *
Wonderully full-bodied poem.
Thanks, Amanda, Paul, Joani, Jake, and Gary. I appreciate the read and your comments.
*
* Water the garden of my face
Ha! Good one, Bill! *
I'd prefer to be cremated. Put my box in the spare room with the cats'.
Love <I>So they asked his wife and daughters and sons
what they wanted for their father, and they said,
Just bury him. He said he wanted us to be happy. </i>
That ending is perfect as are the details. "*"
Love the "tude" in this poem.*
Wow - pulls no punches, takes no prisoners. Love this.
Thanks, Sam, Sara, Charlotte, Jake, Kyle, Gary, and DJ! Great comments. Much appreciated.
* Each image hits with humor and gore in equal parts, I think. This is one of those poems that made me revisit my Greeks, and that's always a good thing, especially when I have Google handy.
Thanks, Nonnie!
*, Bill. He's Narcissus, alive, but won't care when he's dead. I like this a lot.