Thursday, December 12, 2019

"...radioactive"







Me dug up in the 36th century.
I don't look at all well.

I just looked at yesterday's mail. 
Besides the electric bill, and the latest New Yorker. I got another go from a Funeral outfit. 

I can get shake, and baked with my ashes shoved into some wall. That or the usual box dumped in a hole in a hole somewhere. 

Only to be discovered by 36th century grad students. 

These poking about the ruins of our sad empire. 
They'll mostly wonder why so many of us had bad teeth.
Radioactive bones too. All them atomic bomb tests in the 1950's.

Anyway such is this time of life.
Once they were trying to sell me stereos then expensive cars later life insurance now burial plots.

Me,...well I just want to be left alone.

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