Be Prepared
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The “fun” in a funeral
Lies in a skillful

Laid out on a table...
And before they inject you...
They wash and spray
And disinfect you.

Then glad he’s alive,
The embalmer will heartily
Make an incision
In your carotid artery.

A fluid’s forced in
With a pump. And to drain,
There’s another incision
In your jugular vein.

Your mouth is wired shut
With a mandible pin
Through a needle injector
Under your chin.

A further abdominal
Door must be gained,
As your internal organs
Have to be drained.

For this there’s a pipe
Containing a poker,
A sharp, triangular blade
Called a “TROcar.”

To get at your fluids,
Your bile, and your gall,
The trocar is punched
Through your abdomen wall.

Each organ is slit
With a surgical “swipe!”
Then aspirated
Through the pipe.

When all this is done,
And you’re hollow inside,
He’ll fill up the sinkage
With formaldehyde.

And when he’s done pokin’
And swipin’ and cuttin’
He’ll suture the hole with
A trim “trocar button.”                 (Yes, you can Google it.)

Your gray, ashen pallor?
Cosmetics will mask it,
And you’ll make a good show
In your nice open casket.

They’ll use your best suit coat,
But there’s a good chance,
Beneath your white shroud,
You won’t have on pants.

It’s less time and work
For the undertaker,
So off you go bare-butt
To meet your Maker.

You’re dead after all!
No need to be scared,
But loved ones are watching so...
Be prepared.

Sponsored by the Cremation Society of America