Hereafter

So this freakin’ dead guy keeps trying to control my brain

And I don’t understand a word he is saying

But I know exactly

What he wants

What he means and worse yet

What he wants me to do.

I just laugh

Because how do you say no to a dead guy?

It’s not like he is going to listen to you (or me!)

He’s certainly not going to do what I want

Since he obviously has the upper hand here,

Or maybe the lower hand if he is underground

In which case I would have the upper hand.

This would mean that I could possibly control

The dead guy.

But why would I want to do that?

It’s not as if I need the dearly departed to

Do my dirty work.

I’m not afraid of getting my hands mucked up

Since it is usually my words

That get me into trouble

I can’t rely upon some dead dude to undo

My words if he can’t talk.

It would be great if he could type, then maybe he could

Convince the offended that it was only a bad joke

Or a good joke gone bad

Either way, the more that I try to explain this to

The sulking spirit,

He starts to look more pale than usual for the lifeless.

Mr. Less-Than-Living no longer seems interested in controlling my mind

And a tad bit more confused than ever

(Poor soul!)

Perhaps I should nap

So he can rest in peace…