my last
if anyone
cares,
when they
carry
my casket
from the
church
door
stairs
I want
everyone
to dance
in their
underwear
and howl
because
they
are
still
alive
and
have
a story
to tell,
I want
to
be
known
as a
man
who
strived
to love
his life
and be
the man
who
found
much
more
ways
to use
up lemons
than anyone
else
and
the
tie dyed
Kool -Aid
man,
who
shook
his butt
all up and
down and
all around
Guadalupe
street,
and had
his glorious
tenure
in his
shirt
of many
colors,
as the
last mayor
of the
drag,
a man
with
a zillion
holidays
inside of
his
head,
the
man who
loved to
see stiff
stuffy
people
split
apart
in
laughter
running
to the
John
before
they
soak
their
pants
and
most
of all
the
king
of
fun
and a
point of
light
that
would
make
old
Reagan
laugh
in
his
grave
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