Neil McKay
Proper prior planning
I will wear my only good suit,
And maybe I should buy a new tie,
Specially for the occasion.
A colorful one, maybe a Haring print
of the baby glowing with energy.
I want to take a book,
A Roethke anthology
With bookmarks on Elegy for Jane,
My Papa's Waltz, I Know a Woman,
and, of course, The Rose.
A shoebox, not an urn. Why spend any money
On something you're never going to use again.
I need new socks. Green and silky,
Like the pair I had in third grade.
I should be working
Instead of making these plans.
They should play Chuck Mangione's "Feels So Good"
On a turntable, not a compact disc.
I'll need a small church,
So it will look like I have many friends.
I learned that from my dad,
Who had them standing in the parking lot,
Bury my box
At the back of our property in Custer.
Or drop it from the Keystone ferry
Midway between Port Townsend and Whidbey Island.
Or leave it in the parking lot of Dominic's Shop-Rite.
Or at the City Dump.
Or just keep me on the bookshelf,
Between the big Marian Bible and the Funk and Wagnells.
Maybe I should sit in the back of the closet
With the old photos that wait to be looked at.
Wasn't I the only one who would dig them out
Routinely, just to look,
And think, and try to remember?
No party afterwards,
You know I hate big gatherings
Where everyone engages in the most superficial talk,
And alcohol is assumed.
Certainly there would be some weed as well.
How about instead, you just go home after,
And forget the whole thing
Except for the part where they recite my poetry
Which will be stored in a special envelope,
In the bottom drawer of the file cabinet
Behind the auto insurance papers.
Neil McKay described himself as a "blue collar poet, plain and earthy, preferring simplicity to pomposity. Whether that shows in my poetry is a subjective matter."
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