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Buff Whitman-Bradley



Here for a while

Gone for a while

Then even our absence

Will vanish




Here is how I would like

To be sent off:

Find an old jar

Put it outside without a lid

When it is filled with rain

Everyone pass it around

And drink until the water is gone

Then say something preposterous

Break the jar

Eat pie


The Ordinary Person’s Book of the Dead


After your heart stops beating

And you begin making your way

Toward oblivion’s wide front door

It will ease the grief you feel

Passing from presence to absence

To focus your attention

On the 10,000 times you did not die

Rather than the one time you did