1613 – The Funeral

The Funeral
I wish we’d found you sooner: now you smell like rotten tuna.

Goodbye, Mr. Flip

Here we gather at the potty,
teary-eyed and noses snotty,
as we recollect the life of Mr. Flip.
But not all of us boo-hoo you.
Frankly, fish, I hardly knew you,
and I don’t lament the loss of ownership.

Maybe little sis will miss you:
after all, she tried to kiss you
when she found your drying carcass on the floor.
But for me, I hold you blameless:
if my life was half as aimless,
I’d escape instead of swimming anymore.

Face it, Flippy, you were boring.
Even now, I’m nearly snoring,
unimpressed by all this sentimental mush.
And it’s hard to weep and holler
for a pet that costs a dollar.
Sayonara, little fishy… time to flush.