The Grave Digger Gets a New Shovel

And it makes quite a point.
Notice the hickory handle,
Same as a hatchet’s,
Same as a child’s blocks.

It appeared by
Order of requisition
From the dark office
Of the general manager

(For it is in a cemetery
That our scene lies).
His first shovel full
To square the edges

Of a fresh grave,
And then he lowers
The dummy cardboard coffin
To judge the size of the hole.

His lunch is inside
That coffin and it spills!
Now he tries to use the shovel
To scoop up his apple,

His liver sandwich,
But it’s no use.
He has to jump in
Before the crows descend.

Now he’s stuck six-feet under,
And there’s his shovel just out of reach.
Such a cold tomb, he thinks,
His teeth breaking the apple skin.