The Luxury Afterlife
by Doug Holder
February 7, 2008 — Published in Verse
A state of the art mausoleum.
A place to die for,
to be dead in.
Doric columns,
Cathedral ceilings,
Stained glass,
Surrounded by
Designer coiffed
And trimmed grass.
Why lay among the masses
In close quarters
Pressing in all that decaying flesh
All that white trash.
Rest in peace
As your body turns to ash.
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