235th Chorus

Dont camp,
You know very well
        What’ll happen to you
When you die
         and claim
             you dont know you’re dead
             when you die and you know
             “I know dont know that I’m dead”

Dont camp. Death, the no-buzz,
        no-voices, is, must be, the same,
        as life, the tzirripirrit of thupsounds
        in this crazy world that horrifies my mornings
        and makes me mad wildhaired in a room
        like old metaphysical ogrish poets
        in rooms of macabre mysteries.

But it’s hard to pretend you dont know
That when you die you wont know.

I know that I’m dead.
I wont camp. I’m dead now.
What am I waiting for to vanish?
   The dead dont vanish?
             Go up in dirt?
      How do I know that I’m dead.
         Because I’m alive
             and I got work to do
                Oh me, Oh my,
                Hello – Come in -