Dingo the Dissident

THE BLOG OF DISQUIET : Qweir Notions in the Armpit of Diogenes by DINGO the DISSIDENT binge-thinker since February 2008.
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Thursday, 16 June 2011

Someone left

a tatty potted shrub
upon my future grave -
in the farthest, shadiest corner
of the graveyard, next to the back gate
which leads into the forest.
I don't know what to make of this gift,
but I passed it on.

3 comments:

Wofl said...

I have a grave in Saint-Antonin overlooking the river in the event that I die in France.
If I die in Ireland, I have an acre of badger-thicket where I have planted many trees, and where I can rot splendidly alone.

Jindra K. Hrdlička said...

Why are you making so difficult for the foreigners ?

If you go before me, Deena insists on a visit. We will fly The Angels of Ireland since they allow German Shepards.
Forgive us, but what a fuck is "badger-thicket?"
We must know.
Otherwise, we may be weeping in the wrong part of Ireland.

Wofl said...

Well, a thicket is a tangly place that is difficult to get into or through, and this one is home to badgers who have built great mounds over a metre high. Foxes also may be living there.