My Friends Don’t Get Buried, Edward Hirsch

My Friends Don’t Get Buried By Edward Hirsch My friends don’t get buried in cemeteries anymore, their wives can’t stand the sadness of funerals, the spectacle of wreaths and prayers, tear-soaked speeches delivered from the altar, all those lies and encomiums, the suffocating smell of flowers filling everything. No more undertakers in black suits clutching […]

Continue reading →