Last Words by “Slick”

L

Etheridge Knight

Etheridge Knight

(or a self / sung eulogy)

Now, when I / die, dont you bury me

On no lone prairie;

And dont put me in no plain pine box

(cause I left plenty cold cash!);

And throw my cold butt in the deep blue see.

Whatever you do, dont plant me / in no six feet of dirt;

Just mash me, mash me, except for my dick,

Which I want wrapped in a white / woman’s skirt.

I dont want no preacher / man a-preaching

Over me—cause I know where I am going.

I dont want no tears, no flowers,

No standing around and waiting / up / all hours.

Just get a golden trumpet, and have Dizzy blow it.

Cause I / wuz / Slick—and you damn well know it.

No piano playing, no blues please;

No moaning and groaning;

Just lay me on the table, mash me

Into my two-hundred-dollar suit,

Red socks, black patent leather shoes,

Polka-dot tie (make damn sure it’s silk—

And dont forget it!)

Take me out to my pink cadillac

Prop me up / under the steering wheel,

Tow me out to real high hill,

Dig a hole—twenty feet long and twenty feet wide,

Place a giant joint of reefer / weed by my side;

Then leave me alone—

And let me drive to hell in style!

44

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