Taxidermist!
You haven't earned this
You  haven't earned the right to decide
whether my burial should be feral
Or not at all
Instead stand tall
Stuffed with white cotton wool
On the plaque it says your name
Not mine or my family's
I should have been buried beneath the trees
With the earth and the dirt
So new life could germinate out of my death's birth
But instead look at me now
I'm just a coin in your pocket
A note in your wallet
And for those who want it
A source of passing fancy
That is if they ever do get bored of the TV
But hopefully,
If they do see me
They question the perversity of it all
And wonder...

Who spends their time stuffing cotton wool into dead animals?