Death Duty

(chatGPT)

Funerals are such gloomy affairs.

Sad people who know me well

will share dull stories of my various exploits,

which they’ve all heard many times before.

(I should know. I told them.)

What if a funeral was full of strangers?

Standing in for my friends,

who might party elsewhere.

Picked at random, like a jury.

Dutifully attending, to hear my tale

for the first time.

My life, an anonymous Twitter feed,

to be judged by strangers.

Fresh stories of personal triumphs.

An advocate could make my case.

This jury of my peers could hold up score cards,

as I trundle away.

Did he really swim 50 metres when just a boy, to win a badge?

Good for him.

Shear Terror.

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