Take Me to the Taxidermist

I told my wife the other night

when she came back to bed 

my feet were cold so now's 

the time for me to tell her  

not to bury me or burn me 

or give my body to science.

Take me to the taxidermist 

and have him dress me in  

Cary Grant's tuxedo, a pair 

of paten leather shoes

from Fred Astaire and a 

straw hat from Chevalier.

Once I'm a Hollywood star, 

stand me in the garden with 

that chorus line of blondes, 

brunettes and redheads 

I stationed there the day she

flew home to Mother in a snit.

Years later now, my dancers still 

kick high enough to lance the sun. 

I plan to hold a last rehearsal 

once my wife motors into town 

and finds a priest who'll say 

a thousand Masses for my soul.

Donal Mahoney