Beach Blanket Bingo, Mon Amour

[In Memory of Audrey Wells.]

IN THE FUTURE no one will die and living will just be this thing that you keep on doing no matter what. Funeral parlors and grief counselors will be put up on shelves and look quaint and we’ll laugh (oh how we’ll laugh) til we snort and ache throughout our fleshy middle parts. In the future no one will die and the second coming will have already come last week with jesus christ still superstar jet skiing while waving to tittering crowds bent upon bleachers under the blue beyond blue sky which will mean nothing more to us than looking nice and not make us think (oh no never make us think) how small and unimportant we are because we’ll know that we aren’t anymore (or never really were). You’ll say while pointing is that buddha by the elephant ear trailer humming the pina colada song which everyone will know was sung by rupert holmes because we will all by then know every single thing that ever needs knowing even the small ones that don’t. In the future no one will die because mohammed will be doing the pony under the boardwalk in a linen shift with such a naked joy that will make his face creak like floorboards because has he ever really smiled before you’ll ask and we’ll say no not that we ever seem to recall having seen. In the future no one will die because when you think about it (which you won’t) it’s a stupid stupid thing to do on a day like this when there is so much here to do and see and if you’re gone we’ll have to do it all without you and that will only be half as good. If even that much but probably not.