How The Dead Must Laugh

How the dead
Must laugh at us
At we who are still
Temporarily alive

We must be
An endless
Source of
Knee-slapping mirth
To the specters
And ghosts
And ghouls
Who are everywhere
Around us
At all times
In all places

How they must laugh
At our endless strivings
For perfection
At our desperate need
To fulfill all of our
Desperate needs

Our need
To be beautiful
And thin
And athletic

Our need
To be graceful under pressure
Our need to achieve
Great things
To write great books and
Brilliant poems
To paint masterpiece
Pictures
To carve exquisite sculptures
That may someday
Be hung and displayed
(The jealous gods permitting)
In the Metropolitan
And in the Louvre
Museums of Art

How the hitherto deceased
Must howl with glee
At our pathetic efforts
To master
Some trade
Some science
Some sport
Some art or
Some romantic relationship
So that we can hopefully
Manage to make a name
For ourselves and
Our posterity
In the futile
Yet ever so desperate
Hope
That our names and reputations
Will not be blotted out
In the annals of
History

Indeed
Do we not all
Want to live forever
Do we not all go
To every extreme
To seek out
This cure and that
For every ailment
Every disease
Real or imagined
Every physical and
Mental complaint
That has every
Afflicted mortal
Flesh

Who among us
Has not tried to scale
The Mount Olympus
The Mount Everest
Of obstacles and failures
That have prevented us from
Achieving our goal of
Finding
Eternal youth

Are we not all
Just cheap imitation
Ponce de Leons
In search of the
Holy Fountain of Youth

Sure
We who are still
Temporarily
Alive and kicking
Must really
Be good for a laugh
For a hoot and a holler
For when things sometimes
Get dull
As I suspect
They must
During the ho hum lives
Of the eternally doomed
Yet ever so grateful
Dead

jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011