Listen to the world’s best poetry read out loud.

You bury me in concrete.  Bury me
in lead.  Rather I was buried
with a bullet in the head.

You seal me in powder.  Cut the hair
last.  Then take the trimmings
and seal them in glass.

You wrap me in plastic.  Wash me
in foam.  Weld the box airless
and ram the box home.

For each tomb that’s hidden a green
soldier turns.  None decomposes.
Nothing for worms.

A buckle.  A pencil.  Break one thing
I left.  Give some small part of me
ordinary death.