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Bear Sage
- Joined
- Aug 3, 2002
- Posts
- 1,395
My Greatest Hits: The End
Post humorously by Bear Sage
I’m a lot closer to dead than famous,
but don’t worry, death’s cheaper than PR.
No agent’s cut, no brand deal,
just a two-for-one on casket nails
and a headstone font that screams discount.
My fan club will form at the wake,
half there for the free chicken wings,
half scrolling their phones,
waiting to see if my ghost
finally goes viral on TikTok.
The critics who ignored me in life
will suddenly publish think-pieces:
“He always had a unique voice,
like a chainsaw muffled by dirt.”
Five stars, posthumous only.
I picture the worms autographing my bones,
their signatures worth more
than my entire collected works.
Even the maggots get front-row seats,
wiggling with more enthusiasm
than the crowd I played to alive.
Fame is a coffin with velvet lining,
too expensive to lie in,
too tempting not to try on.
I’ll settle for plywood,
let the mildew write my legacy.
And when the curtain falls,
it’s not applause I’ll hear,
just the shovel,
steady as a metronome,
tapping out my greatest hit:
the end.
Post humorously by Bear Sage
I’m a lot closer to dead than famous,
but don’t worry, death’s cheaper than PR.
No agent’s cut, no brand deal,
just a two-for-one on casket nails
and a headstone font that screams discount.
My fan club will form at the wake,
half there for the free chicken wings,
half scrolling their phones,
waiting to see if my ghost
finally goes viral on TikTok.
The critics who ignored me in life
will suddenly publish think-pieces:
“He always had a unique voice,
like a chainsaw muffled by dirt.”
Five stars, posthumous only.
I picture the worms autographing my bones,
their signatures worth more
than my entire collected works.
Even the maggots get front-row seats,
wiggling with more enthusiasm
than the crowd I played to alive.
Fame is a coffin with velvet lining,
too expensive to lie in,
too tempting not to try on.
I’ll settle for plywood,
let the mildew write my legacy.
And when the curtain falls,
it’s not applause I’ll hear,
just the shovel,
steady as a metronome,
tapping out my greatest hit:
the end.
!!!
