The rich
Are well attended
On their way out.
There are so many
That are undone
So hideously.
It's obscene
That some of us
Should be so
Well served
And others
Not at all.

Or perhaps
It's hideous
That so few of us
Should be so
Snugly serviced
With hushed footfalls
In posh parlors
Plush with people
And warm with a wealth
Of rich green carpets
That bury the dead
Mossy with fiat
And thick with ceremony
So that when we hit
That hard sand
We won't wince.