My Body Belongs to the Sea

so when I die I will want a grand Viking funeral.
I will want my body wrapped in a muslin shroud
and shoved off the gang-planks. I will want someone
to say a few words. The captain from the Love Boat
will do. He's bound to be looking for work. When my
body hits the waves and pulls me into the cold deep,
I will want my friends to sing old Prince songs and then
old Irish drinking songs. I will want my sister to recite
a dramatic interpretation of Shakespeare. Something
from A Midsummer Night's Dream will do. She's
always made a brilliant Puck. She's always full of
shit. I will want someone to fire the canons. At least
nine of them. No less. When my body is enveloped in
the sea grasses and passed from Poseidon's realm
on to Hades', I will want more than a pocketful of
gold coins. I have a lot of bribing to do down there.