I took my aunt to the undertaker's
To arrange a funeral for Nancy.
After everything that's happened,
I was glad they served tea
And those biscuits thin enough to dip.

We hung around until my black tie
Conscious of itself, made its merry way
Folded, creased, into my back pocket
And two texts had appeared in my inbox.
That pleasant buzz of being known!

One was from Oliver about
Whether to invite Ikey to the funeral.
I said it didn't really matter.
I should have added, after all,
That it didn't really matter to Nancy.

The undertaker wore a plastic smile
Patient, patronising, pleasing.
He put his arm around my aunt
And worked out all the details through nods
Whilst I thought of dances I never went to.

"Isn't life wonderful?" mum used to say
I guess she's right; after all,
How lucky we are, how fortunate
To have such convenient biscuits
And such nice undertakers.