When we start, would you like to be notified? Do you want to know that you are missing out? That in all reality, you're an omission To the list of names embodied when we gather around That cruel, cruel lunch after the funeral Every morsel and mineral feels undeserved and irreverent A betrayal as we outsource the end of the job Someone else will level your plot and tend to the grass Stitching up the wounds in the ground I do not know in truth that I'll get to change for you In time to be bothered to invest in our loss If there is an arbiter, could I ask her for more than my share? To treat my beloved as more than given permanence At that cruel, cruel lunch after the funeral Every missive and dispatch rolls off the tongue And lands heavy on the table It rattles our lentil bowls A whole fortnight of meals left cold in your honor In your absence In our confusion Our cruel confusion Our confusion In our confusion