Died on My Birthday

When we start, would you like to be notified?
Do you want to know that you are missing out?
That in all reality, you're an omission
To the list of names embodied when we gather around
That cruel, cruel lunch after the funeral
Every morsel and mineral feels undeserved and irreverent
A betrayal as we outsource the end of the job
Someone else will level your plot and tend to the grass
Stitching up the wounds in the ground

I do not know in truth that I'll get to change for you
In time to be bothered to invest in our loss
If there is an arbiter, could I ask her for more than my share?
To treat my beloved as more than given permanence

At that cruel, cruel lunch after the funeral
Every missive and dispatch rolls off the tongue
And lands heavy on the table
It rattles our lentil bowls
A whole fortnight of meals left cold in your honor
In your absence
In our confusion
Our cruel confusion
Our confusion
In our confusion