Notes About The Poem

Poem 32

From the anthology Voices From Mt. Olive Cemetery, a collection of extended epitaphs,

Carl Koontz 1892-1915

Carl Koontz

1892-1915

Mister Gregg was standing atop my grounded skull,

And so was Mister White,

And the reticent county coroner.

And inexplicably,

They directed two men in blue overalls

To dig up my decomposed body that day.

I must say, the sounds of those slicing shovels,

Upending the dirt of my final destination,

Here in Mt. Olive Cemetery

Was most disheartening, to say the least.

But bigger and better digs

Were in store for me,

Up at Whittier Heights Cemetery.

“Easy fellas, easy,” I said silently,

“Easy now, as you lift me out!”

And “heave-ho” I heard the men say,

As they hoisted me up upon

The four-wheeled wagon,

With two sturdy horses up front

Looking back dubiously.

And together, with my one ton marble tombstone,

I and my lilly white sarcophagus 

Travelled to the Heights,

Whittier’s new and spacious boneyard,

Festooned with wild roses.

Though it is impossible to die permanently twice,

I have discovered in death,

That it is possible to be buried a brace of times!

“Heave-Ho” I heard the men say!
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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Rodrigues Avatar
March 16, 2017 at 8:01 PM
Great, Stark! Not to mention those who've had their bones buried in the catacombs. They took license with some, decorating with them...heave, ho!!
Hunter  Avatar
March 17, 2017 at 4:49 AM
Hi Kim. Thanks for your comment. I am from Whittier California where old Mt. Olive Cemetery is located. In 1914, Rose Hills Cemetery, the largest cemetery in the world, was founded. Mr. A. H. Gregg, the founder, offered families a discount to have deceased relatives exhumed from Mt Olive and reinterred at Rose Hills. So it was common practice at that time to have exhumations taking place at little Mt. Olive. I tried to recreate how it might have felt to one dead person to have this done. Thanks for reading my poem.
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