A deep blue horizontal trauma 

(or maybe sympathy overkill) 

But that’s how bad my childhood was. 

Somebody gave me a Slinky, 

and I had no stairs. 

 

No shoes, no shirt, no (funeral) service

Don’t even do anything if it’s not going to be fun. 

Refuse. Walk away. They’ll go on living without you. 

This brazen philosophy may put a lot of churches out of business.

You may need to unlearn a lot of that stuff, that stuff 

they said to you from the start, in Sunday school. 

Not to mention Monday school, Tuesday school, 

Wednesday school, Thursday school, Friday school, 

and Saturday school; landing you back around in a 

dull stifling circle to Sunday—the same. Time to get out of orbit. 

It’s no good getting up in the morning if what’s coming 

isn’t going to be fun, and this includes dying. 

But not yet, please—I’m having way too much fun! 

Is it bad taste, or mean, to bring up death, as fun? Nope. 

Remember? School’s out, the church service is over,  

bright bouncing misbehaving even bilingual babies are carrying the collection plates 

loaded down with sushi, disco records, strawberries and cream on tiramisu, 

and yes, those kind of beautiful (first class, one-way ticket) mushrooms!  

Death will be fun (hey, not yet!) because 

all things new 

anything surprising

whatever you didn’t see coming—

hasn’t that always been nothing but fun? 

The churches mopily prepare you for decades, your 

grades and transcripts follow you around tediously, your 

parents look at you like you’re out of date yogurt. 

But fun—you can do it, and I’m behind you all the way.

If you ever do die, some people will say, 

in their rubber stamp language 

to some other people you might have known, “Sorry for your loss,” 

but won’t even know how much fun you were and are having. 

It can start now.  

But you’ve got to get out of orbit. 

There’s so much room. 

Go get a lot of colorful, inappropriate, sensually out of control plus artistic 

clothing, put it all on, then—take it all off! 

Your nakedness has never skinned up such sacredness, 

not that it’s all that precious ... but it is all that free, finally. 

And fun. You can do it.