by Corey King
Today I was the accidental caboose to a stranger’s funeral procession
I was minding my own, windows down
I was singing along to the song I had playin’
Sunglassed and all
My usual routine path
Was interrupted
By a stranger’s funeral procession
I saw the red and blue lights of the highway patrol just before the hill
Just before I cleared the hill
I assumed there was a criminal ahead, not a dead man
Or woman
I kicked my newly self-installed brakes
They’re good now
They used to grind
Sounded terrible
But they’re good now
I came to a halt
A dead stop
Pardon the pun
On the occasion other than a man’s (or woman’s) last ride
I’d build with road rage
Slowin’ me down
I’ve got that unnecessary disease
Road rage
But I cooled it out of respect
I let the hearse and its train pass me by
I turned my speakers to zero and let myself think
About the man’s (or woman’s) last ride
Everyone with purple funeral flags sticking from their window
Has lost someone today
Today was the day, the last day
I had class today
That was my day
But
Today was someone’s last day
Above ground
Where the Sun could shine upon their body
The physical body
After this day, today
The Sun will only shine on the dirt
The dirt lain upon the casket that holds
The body covered in skin
Once kissed by the Sun
Sunburned
Will now only be warmed by the dirt
That is shone upon by that same Sun
I was the accidental caboose to a stranger’s funeral procession today
But someday, I’ll be the train’s engine
I’ll be leadin’ the pack.
been writin' 