Samson

I didn’t attend the funeral,
but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it.
Samson always was a pen and paper sort of guy.

No one responded,
which seemed rather rude.
I would have liked a note,
“Thank you for the letter,
we placed it on the casket
along with the first
fist-full of dirt.”

I would have enjoyed that part,
heaving the clots of earth
onto what was left
of his clotted up heart.

I was told the wife wore black.
She’s the traditional sort,
avoided the mistress
at the graveside.
Wouldn’t have seemed proper,
for the pair’s tears to mix.

I paid my respects,
three days late
with Cubans and brandy.
Neither of which were to my taste,
but I suppose
we’re something of slaves
to the wishes of the Dead.

I am once again ignoring the offical NaPoWriMo prompt. Today’s piece was actually inspired by a tweet from the keyboard of prompts 101

I hope that you all enjoyed it.