I want to be chummed

When I die, I want to be chum.

This is no reason for you to be glum.

If I am surfing and a shark mistakes me for a snack,

Don’t try getting my body back.

Save yourself the costs of a graveyard plot-

I don’t want to be left to rot.

I don’t want to return to the lifecycle as maggots and mold

Nor do I fancy being in the ground cold.

I would rather be pitched off the bow of a ship

And when I am I imagine I will R.I.P.