Funeral For An Existentialist

Just thought of this in the shower (had to end the shower prematurely to get it all down ) and wanted to know what you all thought. I feel like I've heard the title somewhere before, so I hope I'm not unintentionally stealing it from something.

This song, this one, this is the one I
would sing at the funeral for an existentialist. And
that rock, the big one with the water
sliding all over it, that’s where he would die. That
old stone mill, that’s where the kids, seventeen,
nineteen, crushing empty beer cans under their
sneakers, would watch him, stoned and mumbling,
stumbling over the waterfall. This is the bush
the paramedics would thrash through, and this
is the tree trunk the gurney would scratch. This
is the road, a grainy resolution like A Summer
Place, where the ambulance wheels would smear
an old puddle into streaks, dried soon. This is
the rock the existentialist’s wife would throw, and it
would land in the water, rippling, a reverberating
question. These are the sticks we would tie together
to make a cross (only because it’s easier to stick
in the ground) and we would stick it at the top of the
hill he tripped over, and we would say a few words- all verbs,
past tense.

We would say, Don’t bother, but somebody would
pray.

wow, first of all, love the title

second of all, some how I've fallen into a rut of being made to listen to bad poetry, so this is a breath of fresh air. I love the whole scene, him returning to an old place or arriving at a new one, or both, and the paramedics and ambulances and the wife all trying to get in but it's just too darn hard to get to. and the last line, I think I love the most because it's something I always tell people, especially my uber-christian friend if I tell him I've had a bad day