She Buried Him

Even in death
She gave to you
More than you ever gave
To her in life
Your funeral was grand
Too bad you missed it
Terrible joke, Black comedy
Sounds like a name
You might have called yourseld
Trying to build bicycles that flew
Trying to demolish a woman
That stood more erect
More erect that you ever had to be
For the others with whom
You celebrated life.
Sorry
They missed your funeral too
But she stood.
She still stands
Head held high,
A nose chiseled by the wind
It shares with the sky.
Some call her proud,
Others call her vain.
I call her strong.
You called her none,
Her teardrop name.
With skin of the blackest,
Smoothest leather.
Matte and pulled taut
Across fine Regal bones
With a crown of full metal grey
And a tongue with which best to pray
Too bad, you missed her too
You gouged out the brightest jewel
With your own terrible tools
A master of quackery
A jack of no trade
From the Grave
Dites-moi s’il vous plait
How do you say this in
Eight different ways?