Aggie's Legacy

Great Aunt Aggie always insisted
she didn’t want a fuss for her funeral.
‘Just chuck me in a skip,’ she’d say,
so when she died, peacefully at home
at the age of ninety-two,
that’s what we did.

Disposing of a body in this way
is frowned on by the authorities,
as we discovered two days later,
when the law came knocking at the door,
asking questions.

‘We’ve nothing to hide,’ we said.
If we had, we could have chopped her into pieces,
or dissolved her in a bath of acid,
though going to that much effort
would have been missing the point.

At the very least we’d have gone further
than three doors down the road,
and we definitely wouldn’t have left her like that,
still clutching her handbag.

We agreed to pay a fine
of fifty pounds
for littering.

This is taken from my book 'Killing the Piano' from Half Moon Books, and also appeared in the Poets' Republic Issue 5 and the recent Say Owt anthology.

◄ Oyster

Rehearsal ►


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Tue 4th Sep 2018 17:53

I loved your piano poem from a while back, and this a treat too. The matter of factness of it is a real strength, and an additional poke at mindless authority. There is a sort of wry common sense to it. Nice, Joe.


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Darren J Beaney

Tue 4th Sep 2018 09:20

This is great Joe. I do enjoy folk who can look death (and all of the fuss surrounding it) in the eye and blow it a big raspberry!!!



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M.C. Newberry

Mon 3rd Sep 2018 16:45

More welcome droll humour on WOL. Good one!
I can just see Aunt Aggie
Still clutching her baggie!

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Taylor Crowshaw

Mon 3rd Sep 2018 15:10

Good one Joe thoroughly enjoyable..

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Brian Maryon

Mon 3rd Sep 2018 13:32

Like the 'three doors down the road' Joe.

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