Today’s poem is called “Visit the Irish Wake Tent.”  My folks went to an Irish music festival this weekend, and they were telling me all about the wake tent, which sounded more or less like a Disney/Epcot version of Ireland.  The writeup on the website boasted fun for the whole family.  I admire the Irish ability to laugh at inappropriate times, then veer abruptly into total tragedy.  Wanna hear a joke?  The odds are 50/50 that the punchline will be depressing.  Maybe higher.  The ritual of the wake is itself fascinating, but the idea that you would pay admission to pretend you’re at a funeral seems just bizarre.  That said, if I had to buy a ticket to a pretend funeral, I’d go Irish.  Or New Orleans.  Most certainly not Midwest Methodist; their funerals are dry and jello-packed.  Check out the poem, and please consider sponsoring my poetry marathon!