I’d go for something by Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass

to start with, as folk filtered in;

set some off sniggering.

 

Then Jammy Smears, in full.

Ivor would have loved that,

gleefully noting the increasing unease

that imbued the occasion;

sobriety lost to a rousing ensemble version

of Squeeze Bees.

 

For those wishing to observe traditional reverence,

Ne Me Quitte Pas shall be the curtain-down track;

hankies to be passed out, printed

with my profile on one side

and Brel in silhouette on reverse. 

A democracy of snot.

Let the criers decide!                                                 

 

And for my big finish - Little Donkey,

with compulsory coconut percussion:

all mourners to clip-clop out of the crematorium,

over the pelican crossing,

past the primary school playground

and into the pub down the road,

culminating in a coconut-shell crescendo at the bar,

where whiskeys will be waiting for the brave

and the inappropriate.