Inane Platitudes

My obituary
shall read that I laid
stark in the dark
mooning the night

and that my soul
was a barren menopausal
womb, hysterectomized
by some diety’s shaky hand.

It will canonize
how I pantomimed
banal prayers;

sent shot-put mouthings
of inane platitudes
to a deaf

dumb

detached

hedonist.