A loving tribute
To the life of cousin Ella
Who swiped right on Tinder
On the wrong type of fella

A life and soul of the party
Our great uncle Daryl
When trying to get the dregs
Fell and drowned in the barrel

In loving memoriam
Of our dear little Claire
Went to nature to find herself
And instead found a bear

Beneath this stone
Are the remains of Bette
We did call the ambulance
But it’s not here yet

Here lies the body
Of poor little Andy
Ate some rat poison
Thought it was candy

On his body we built this city
Boston labourer and husband, S. Quentin
We didn’t know he was in the pit
Before we’d poured 40 tons of cement in

There’s nothing funny about the dark and yet I laugh.

To weather a storm
You must not think of what it has taken from you
Until it has passed

If emptiness is cleanliness, and cleanliness is godliness, then god is empty, just like me

Some people say god bless America
Some say god bless the nazi youth
I say god blesses none of these
For I think that god blesses truth