I'm busy being vertical!
Not wasting time, persisting…
Proclaimed I was a rare article
Death took me off its shortlist.
I did receive some Time to spend, my boasts were eminently keen.
He won't deduct, though, won't amend;
Keeps all his calculations clean.
So, first I'll give my hands a scrub,
remove all troubles so they shine.
The face with water clean I'll rub
and cut my hair so I look fine…
But keep your sayings, they're just dirt:
no casket suits, or grim
morticians. In my wardrobe only
hangs a shirt for all my vertical
ambitions. That's my only dream, I reckon:
To leap up from below.
If I fly for but a second,
enough my Time will grow.