we’d seen cemeteries in every city in the southern hemisphere.

-i was looking for a place to take you when you die-

the smell of cremation smoke buttered my lips.

kids were singing karaoke from the tops of tombstones.
chewing american gum.
john lennon echoing from grave to grave.
and i imagined
all these people.

it was late in the afternoon
by the time we left the funeral procession.

on the way home the cab driver was playing country music.

‘pass me by, if you’re only passing by’
‘pass me by, if you’re only passing by’

i thought to myself, i might just be
developing a sense of humour.