by Susan Stutzky

“At my funeral there will be plenty of wastebaskets.
For people will cry and noses will run.
And hands full of gooey tissues are disgusting.
At my funeral, laughter should reign,
And chuckles comfort.
There’s humor in my flaws,
So tell amusing tales with gusto.
People may wear jeans to my funeral. I intend to.
With my favorite flannel shirt and thick woolen socks. Forget the bra.
Traditional in life,
Let me be different in death.
No hypocrites may come to my funeral.
Make no room for the self-righteous and judgmental.
I’d rather have strangers or no one at all.
So come if you loved me.

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