Morbidly Amusing Musings

by Kenneth Vincent Walker

But what difference does it
Make where I'm buried if
No one knows where I am?

In an unmarked grave, and
No slave to tradition, beneath
The sun, surf and the sand.

Ah, the sea just prior to the
Horizon as the jetty points
The way on a clearly lit day.

Unto the depths, the waves,
In a sealed vessel, surreally
Concealed in a watery grave.

But what difference does it
Make where I'm buried if
No one knows who I am?

Will my words evaporate
As vapor, or project beyond
My voice across the land?

Out there before the Ponce
Inlet's sunrise, I greet each
Day with a smile and a tan.

For I pour out my prodigious
Heart revealing my morbidly
Amusing musings placed on

Display for those who may,
Those willing to stray past
The traditions commonly

Thought pious in man.