Never Pretend To Be Dead

Brendan Curran ✒ with a poem from his expansive body of work.

I got inside a coffin

just to see if i would fit

I couldn’t believe how hard it was

or am I starting to get stiff?

♞♜♝

It seemed a bit small for me

maybe I am getting a wee bit stout?

But Now I’m stuck inside

and can’t get feckin out

♞♜♝

So I tried not to panic,

might as well see just how I feel

With the fancy purple crept lining

lying all over me

♞♜♝

There is a small bag of sand

stuck underneath my neck

lifting my head up high

so as I look peacefully relaxed

♞♜♝

Suddenly the room door opened

and I pretended to be dead

Two cleaners walked inside the room,

and both them shook their heads

♞♜♝

He looks well for a corpse

the big Irish one said

You’d think he was only sleeping,

the other one agreed nodding her head

♞♜♝

They both stood over above me,

as if to say a silent prayer

Then the Irish one took out a hair brush,

and started to brush my hair

♞♜♝

Couldn’t have him buried

with his hair in that state

Then second one took out powder

and started putting it all over my face

♞♜♝

They both smiled at each other

at the job they had done

Then they both busted out laughing

it sure was great fun

♞♜♝

But my allergy to the make up

soon made me cough and sneeze

They both took off like like a rocket

dust rising from their heels

♞♜♝

I never thought that dying

could be so much fun

But I’d had enough of this wake

it’s time that it was done

♞♜♝

So I rose to exit the coffin

a hand firmly on each side

But the undertaker entered the room

and couldn’t believe his own eyes

♞♜♝

He had heard many’s a story

of the dead coming alive

But the sight of a real living stiff

sure took him by surprise

♞♜♝

As I ran from his parlour

with the shroud flying over my head

I swore and I swore

that’s my last time ever playing dead!

♞♜♝

The undertaker was screaming,

and following me in hot pursuit

shouting robber come back here

with my purple coffin suit

♞♜♝

I was running so fast now

I tripped, fell and thumped my head

I’m now back in the coffin

but this time I’m really dead

⏩ Brendan Curran, Irish conflict poems

2020