if i die
today
or tonight
call jean
and mike
and maybe clive.
if i die
away
from my aunt’s home
call my aunt rene
on her homephone
but THINK before:
she’s 84
so save her all that pain
and call my cousin
wayne.

p.s. i hope
it was a painless
transition
and not that expected painful heart attack.
i have
written the numbers
for everyone
(phone
not lotto)
behind this
page
on the back.

[february 8 2009:
I wrote this poem on this date yesterday. My mother died in this same bed I'm writing this in, 4 years ago, today.]