This is the chemical formula for the ash of a cremated human body. It’s the same for all carbon based mammals although furry ones may have more keratin and melanin.
Fire destroys and cooks. It’s a leveller, an equal opportunist which could pave the way for Michelin starred crematoria. Picture, if you will, celebrity chefs ranting in the chapel, mourners in awe of the fine spun sugar creations rivalling the widow’s hat and the bread and butter eulogies for which the congregation vote – “Who’ll be forced to live again next week. Will it be Mavis who died of chronic liver failure or Brian, the bashful diabetic. Vote now!”
And the soundtrack to this movie? A body/spirit/soul combo with Motown and Philly sounds weaving synchro jazz multi-rhythm beats. After all, poetry is music without distractions.
Do souls and spirits also burn? Surely spirits don’t die with the frame in the flames. Though if I had a choice, which maybe I do, after the point of death to avoid the awareness of any disappointment, I want total obliteration rather than partial meltdown – Meltdown Man – it’s cleaner for everything just to be gone. A full stop rather than a comma – commas are troublesome, implying more. A full stop is definitive. You know where you are with a full stop.
Oh, and Morphic Resonance – a shard, an iota, chipped from the souls of every creature of the species when one of our own perishes. Just a thought, no need to choose weapons and face off 20 paces for a one-way ticket to Death Row.
“In miraculous beauty, can there also be despair?”