I’ve been giving some thought
to how you should dispose of my remains
after I’m gone, I begin,
knowing that this won’t be
an easy conversation.
Obviously, donate any bits
that are still usable,
there’s a card in my wallet
and the A.S.L. should have it on record.
If it were up to me,
I’d say round up some neighbours
and drop me into the organic trash
preferably on Monday,
just after they’ve emptied it.
Leave it until the weekend
and I’ll be bouncing around
on top of a pile of pruned branches
and hedge clippings
for everyone to see,
which wouldn’t be respectful and anyway
somone would call the Vigili
and get you into trouble.
I had thought I’d like to be buried
back in the UK, but you know,
what with Brexit and that,
I’ve sort of gone off the idea.
Plus, it would cost an arm and a leg.
Keep the money for the grandkids,
when they arrive.
Did you know
that in Britain
you can be buried in the woods,
in a cheap carboard coffin,
or just a shroud?
Bet you’ll miss me telling you
how things are better there.
You can even bury a loved one
in your garden,
if you have one,
though a house with a garden in the south-west
doesn’t come cheap.
Which leaves Italy,
regulated all to hell
so as to guarantee some lobby group
a decent living
milking the rest of us.
If you really MUST deal with an undertaker
tell him you’ll only pay
for whatever’s legally necessary,
ask for a discount and,
if you don’t get one,
say you’ll try his competitors
down the street
and will only be back
if his quote’s the lowest,
just like Italians do
when choosing an English course.
Cremation could be an option,
though I hear it costs more
and you have to book ages ahead
like when you had that epidural, remember?
But then…
what will you do with the ashes?
I’ve noted down a few suggestions
in case you don’t have better ideas:
- mix me with some cement
and redo the grouting on the back wall - cat litter? Though it’s looking as if
I’ll definitely outlast her - this one’s probably illegal:
use my ashes
to add a touch of wood-fired-oven authenticity
to your home-made dinner-party pizzas
(spread a little of the grit
on a hard surface,
drop the flattened disks of dough onto it,
then pop them in the pre-heated electric oven
and voila, just like in a restaurant!) - scattering me on the sea
or into a river
would be illegal in Italy, I’ve read,
as are viking-style funerals,
but there’s nothing in the ‘codice civile’ about sewers…
So a model boat bearing the urn
(a paper cup?)
which catches fire ‘by accident’
what do you say?
We could have nordic music.
Obviously, you shouldn’t try this if,
on the big day,
there’s a smell of methane - my favorite, get the pre-schoolers
to do a ‘glue and ash’ picture
of their late teacher
(show them how to use glue
to draw a stick man,
sprinkle my ashes
liberally over the A4 sheet
while the glue is still sticky,
shake the page to reveal…
the finished ‘memento mori’
is that the term?
Have a dustpan and brush handy)
.
© Daniel Stephens, 2019
