Batterton Dobyns by Edgar Lee Masters — Read

Did my widow flit about / From Mackinac to Los Angeles, / Resting and bathing and sitting an hour / Or more at the table over soup and meats / And delicate sweets and coffee?

I was cut down in my prime / From overwork and anxiety.

But I thought all along, whatever happens / I've kept my insurance up, / And there's something in the bank, / And a section of land in Manitoba.

But just as I slipped I had a vision / In a last delirium:

I saw myself lying nailed in a box / With a white lawn tie and a boutonniere, / And my wife was sitting by a window / Some place afar overlooking the sea;

She seemed so rested, ruddy and fat, / Although her hair was white.

And she smiled and said to a colored waiter:

"Another slice of roast beef, George.

Here's a nickel for your trouble. "