Instructions Following My Death

Someday, I will probably die.

I have given this matter a lot of thought and it has occurred to me that Death will most likely be immune to my charms. As much as I’d like to believe that I am the one person on earth that will be spared of this universal punchline, in reality there is probably only a 40 or 50% chance of that happening.

It has also occurred to me that one or two people might actually miss me and be a little sad when that final day comes for me. Oh, I suppose I am being modest.

I am sure my death will affect four or five (million? billion?) people at the least.

In fact, I think I’m not out of line to believe that when I’m gone the world will certainly split apart and sink into eternal oblivion.

I know, I know. I sound a little self-centered here, but really, I only am concerned about everybody else.

So, I decided I will leave behind some brief instructions to be followed by everybody in the event that I die. All I ask is that everyone who is still alive to follow them.

Thank you.

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When I Die

When I die (and I suppose I will die),
I ask only that the entire world cry
Blue masses of tears from earth to sky,
An endless stream of incalculable size
Trickling from every face, every eye.
Yes, I believe that would suffice.

When I die (painlessly and gloriously)
I want every newspaper front page to decree:
“Turn off the clocks and remain forever in bed,
Why bother living in the world if such a man is dead?”
I would also ask the sun to permanently set,
A world trapped in darkness will never forget.

When I die and turn my life’s final page,
I want Congress to ban the alcohol drinking age,
Because how else will the little ones cope
When they lose their greatest source of hope?
Let little Joe and Jane raise a glass and shout:
“We’ll miss you, my friend” before they pass out.

When I die, and I suppose I have now, haven’t I?
I want lifelong atheists to embrace the church,
The most devoted Christians to question God’s worth,
I want black to become white and white to become plaid,
Because when I’m gone nothing will make sense
Or even rhyme, dammit.

Oh, and one last thing
When I shuffle off this mortal spring...
Please chisel on my solid gold headstone:
“Here Lies a Man, Awesome to the Bone
Whose Departure Made Us All Feel Alone.
Now, Stop Reading This and Go the #^@! Home!”


Chris Pollay, 2008