tourist enterrement

two filipino men dig a grave

they lift turf with spades

carrying slices of earth cake

to the edge of the coffin

serving dessert to us onlookers

i ponder less pronounced gravestones

unpolished and repurposed as steps

whispering

walk on my name

"go this way," he says. 

i draft epitaphs, like poetry

imagine baby names of those

i'm too tired to have

think on incineration,

ashes cast into tradewinds

seasoning the plush valley

my ember singing a eulogy

"it smells like worms," he says

moss-covered buddha sits

criss-cross-apple-sauce

toddler shrieking 

at the koi orgy

a school of tiger stripes'

slippery friction of bodies

circular mouths like spaghetti-o's

begging for more

i could walk on them

and slip into groundkeepers' nets

slouch into next life 

as an immigrant's chore