Our Man In Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Death of an Egotist!"
...AT THE FUNREAL no-one was really surprised when, a few gravestones afar, dressed in mourning. he showed up at his own funeral - sans microphone - so he couldn't KARIOKI himself into the grave?
The Edwardian Frock coat I'd bequeathed him in my WILL - Yes. I was, spiritually - at this somber event also. And feeling equally DEAD as a door nail, supposing "door nails" R an issue, having a rust-free guaranteed gig, or a Life accustomed to funerals -blah-blah?
It isn't customary - at a Funeral - to "break wind" (FART!) but when the bloke in da BOX/COFFIN semi-explodes, wotchagonnaDO!? The SMELL is contained of course but the cheap-ass coffin acts like a recording Studio-vocal Sound Booth. A tad muffled but still auditable and pretty LOUD!
No getting away from it. Everybody, his mourners & nearby passes-by got his final (?) sentiment.
He was already partially soiled over. Still, no-one graveside wasn't quite sure what to do. Was he alive or dead? They'd buried him with a guitar & a bottle of Whisky. Should they DIG HIM UP or let him drink, sing a song or 2 and/or" SOD IT!" just let him lie in his bed; "Isn't he supposed to be dead?" ...A fevered-cemetery discussion ensued!
SOME YOKO mourners beat it/got the Frick outta there! (Spooky or Complex? In a hurry to secure his wealth?)
I, for One, was on the ground, DOGGO, legs akimbo, laughing my ass off! Was my DEAD BRO Beethoven, Rimbaud (French wizard Poet), Ezra Pound, Dylan Thomas (having a last joke?) It's hard to pin it down. The funerals' SOLEMNITY made the "situ" COCO-the CLOWN. Then it started to rain, the "denouement" of the final scene when an Egotist meets his Maker.
At the FUNREAL, in my mind, no-one was surprised whence, a respectable distance away a misty image in the fog & air, I SWEAR!... we conjured our departed's presence bearing a withered smile, yet still a smile; that son-of-a-bitch making his final bow.
c.2025. Dave Delacroix.
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