Calaveras

In Mexico, for Day of the Dead, there exists the tradition of writing calaveras, poems intended to poke fun at the living. I´ve taken some liberty with the poetic structure, and please forgive my awkward rhyme. They´re not meant to be morbid or offensive, so please enjoy.

Dad
In life, John walked with his AAA travel guide
His goal? To travel the whole world wide

When it came time for his final road trip
He sure didn´t plan on giving the devil much lip

His only complaint when the judgment was unfurled?
Without a map, how will I sightsee in the underworld?

Mom
Hour after hour, Barb excels at Solitaire
Uncovering an Ace is her only care

From left to right she moves the mouse with ease
Hoping it's victory that she'll seize

But when the game is over and the screen glows black
Will her rickety bones choose a PC or a Mac?

Johnny
JJ Sabaka spent much his life analyzing the stats
Who had the best record, the best passing, the most at bats

For days, he recruited, traded, and schemed
Trying to put together the most victorious team

But when the season's over and death drafts his picks
Will JJ be passing or punting with kicks?

Julie
After a long day teaching the Knights ser and estar
Jules would come home to the hot tub, sometimes after the bar

She'd soak and she'd soak until all stress washed away
Ready to face another long, challenging day

But when her flesh wastes away and her bones are all teeny
Will our hot-tubbing calaca still fill out her bikini?

Mary Beth
One of life's great pleasures for MB was her food
A fine meal could change all, it would lighten her mood

Two courses, of course, were never enough
She'd need palette cleansers, and all of that fluff

But when Death serves up dessert, which will she choose?
Angel food cake or sinful dark chocolate mousse?

Becky
Her life, Becky lived with enthusiasm and joy
If it was wacky, she'd go there. The world her big toy.

The strangest tourist traps were never to be missed.
She'd seen them all and checked them off her list.

When her time has come and Becky takes a final breath
Will she continue on with a zest for death?

Broecklings
Monica, Kevin, and Little Baby I
Lived a happy, quiet life, never a reason to cry

When Death came for them, asking, "Heaven or Hell? You choose."
Their response? "Either way, as long as there's Ski, Ice Deli, and Horseshoes."

Emily
As fast as a pony, Em sprinted through life
She could outrun sadness, and sorrow, and strife.

But as fast as she ran, she couldn't leave Death in the dust.
I'm right on your heels, I'll pass you, I trust.

Just as the finish line came into Em's sight,
He passed on the inside and Em ran towards the white light.

Alison
If you needed your numbers crunched, Alsion was the one to call
While for most, Algebra was a drag, Alsion had a ball

The Quadratic formula, x=-b
In front of the calculator, her favorite place to be

But for all of her computation, death could not be delayed
Death after life, that order of operations must be obeyed

Jean
Jean spent her life tracking criminals' prints
Sworl, tentarch, or loop, a judge they could convince.

She visited crime scenes, places Death like to haunt
And one day Death approached her, "It's you that I want"

As he laid his hands upon her, a thought ran through her mind
Does Death leave fingerprints, and if so, which kind?

Anna
Anna B became famous for her paintings divine
She'd create one and sell it for millions online

Her style, unique, and her portraits true to life,
Death showed up at her gallery, wanting a gift for his wife

My portrait, you paint it, Death said with a grin
And your payment, extra years you will win

But make me look life-like, some meat on my bones
I'm sick of this gaunt look. Use pink and orange tones.

Jenn
Jenn never left home without her eco shopping bag
And her old T-shirt? Reused as a rag.

A healthy compost bin was found in her backyard
And for environmental legislation she would rally hard

When Jenn goes up to heaven, I'm sure we'll hear her cry,
"Angels, use those blue bins. We've gotta recycle in the sky!"

Stay tuned: Happy ànimas