all the morticians are dead

Forget me when I’m dead,
And there are worms in my eyes.
Erase my head stone
Better yet, smash it to bits.
Put up a false one
That says I’m a 4 year old girl
Whose mother drowned her in the tub.
So when people pass by
They’ll say, “What a pity”
As my corpse
Smolders beneath their feet.
Don’t buy a good casket,
There’s no use in spending a lot of money
On something no living person can enjoy.
Besides, I want to seep out from the cracks
Of a poorly constructed tomb
And infect the earth
With my corrupt juices.
I want to flow into an underground stream
And end up in someone’s well
So when they make their coffee or tea
They’ll take a little piece of me with them.