If I Live to 120

In memory of the great antipoet Nicanor Parra, 1914-2018

All I ask is honesty
Don’t tell me I look great
when you’ve seen better
on a cadaver
And please no gifts
No fitbits or trekking poles
Give me a break
And ditch the flowers
This ain’t no funeral
Don’t buy me a cake
especially one where
a woman jumps out
but I can’t remember
what to do with her
Perhaps a splash of wine
to wet this withered throat
And tell that guy in the mirror
to stop staring at me

Note: First published in Metaforología, a digital literary magazine. http://metaforologia.com/gene-twaronite/