Bury Me Under a Factory

Screw cemeteries,

when I stop breathing

bury me under a factory

that makes pianos.

Not for the music, 

no point in that,

but for a piano’s willingness

to preserve the passions of dead men.

In my cement mausoleum,

each quality test of middle C

will be a hymn to Chopin, who died

quietly in the fadings of autumn

and will outlive any human industry.

What better place to decompose?

Reviews

[Alessander]

The title caught my attention immediately. clever.

And I like the ideas presented. In my interpretation, music acts as a means to the end of passion.

Also, from my vague music knowledge, middle C is C sharp I think - which is supposed to be the most harmonious of notes.

C for Chopin? lol

Of course, now I'm thinking Nocturnes and such, which in themselves are somber and allude to death, which fits the theme well.

And I think "decompose" is a pun

decompose and de-compose.

Nice way to end it.

[Penelope Voljeti]

this is a very clever poem, and as a musician, I greatly appreciate it :)

[Anna]

The richness of "a piano's willingness to preserve the passions of men" is wonderful.

[Robert Strzalko]

I used to work at a funeral home. I can bring my grave dig shovel anytime.......................

[Willys Watson]

I love this. Short but profoundly rendered.

[Anthony J]

Thank you!