A Corpse's Carol

By Karen Walsh

If your mother’d died before we met,
No telling where we’d be.
(She’d be vexing the hounds of hell
And wiping where they pee.)

Where would we be if she had corpsed
Before we said “I do?”
Not fielding all her notions of
What not to broil or stew.

With preservatives instead of blood,
So difficult to meddle.
And sewn-shut lips aren’t spouting tips
On babies, home and kettle.

If your mother’d died before we met,
T’wod have been a quiet life.
Or we might have gone to Timbuktu
And I’d still be your wife.