Great Beyond

After I've passed on,
and the relatives,
friends,
and well-wishers
have fathered to pay respects
thee is bound to be some guy
who says,
"Listen,
Opus wouldn't have wanted us to be sad!
He would have wanted us to celebrate life!
He would have wanted us to be happy!"

Do me a favor,
and punch that guy squarely in the face.
Then mourn for about three or four years
stopping only to drink enough water to replenish your tears,
write book-length tributes to my life,
sing songs about me,
and after four or so years,
you have my permission,
to move on,
wearing only black
for the rest of your lives,
and never fully letting your gaze
meet another's eyes.

That's the way I want it.