It’s best to die while on vacation
swept out to sea from some beach
fallen into a gorge between mountains
Mugged in a big city (a mere inconvenience)
until a somewhat snide suggestion
is made on his unimaginative word choice
Planes crash
Trains derail
Ferries capsize
But at least I didn’t die at the office
or sweating over a sly sonnet
or asleep in my bed alone
Make sure my obituary reads
he died doing what he loved
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is one of the organizers of Living Poetry, a collection of poets and poetry lovers in the Triangle region of North Carolina. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.
Bartholomew Barker, Poet 
enjoyed this one, Bart , resonates — particularly with the death of Michael Mosley —
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Thanks, John! I’d never even heard of Mosley until this disappearance but that’s the way to do it.
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“Make sure my obituary reads
he died doing what he loved”
This!!! Very nice, Bart! I really like this one!
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Thanks, Tre! So glad you enjoyed it.
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You’re most welcome!
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A wondrously ponderous poem … where will I die, how will I die, when will I die? … I suppose we are all born to die … sooner or later …
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It’s one thing that we all have in common.
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Fabulous crafting, Bart, and not a bad way to go! 🌊
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Thanks, Michele! Glad you didn’t die over your recent holiday.
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Thanks, Bart! I didn’t die, but I did go to heaven. 😊🙃
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Now, there’s a thought, Bartholomew. Thank you for sharing. X 🦋
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Thanks, Ellie!
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You’re time to die – is your time to die – no sooner – no later – thinking of the line in ‘Bladerunner’.
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I still have hopes.
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YES!
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Glad you agree!
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