USHABTI

Some of the dead of Egypt once rowed

The Boat of Ra across the sky or helped fend off

The monsters that suddenly blocked the way

Others went to the Fields of Iaru, a pleasant place

But you had to do your own work there

Hoeing and weeding and gathering; the ushabti

Spent their days singing and gossiping;

Instead of the three or more souls a man might have

Ushabti had one apiece. Still, Osiris liked them.

Long since the Boat was carefully docked

The rowers dispersed, becoming jinns or angels

Or being reborn as men or cats or cows

As seemed best to them. The Fields remain

Only a few ushabti in them, but they

Have learned to brew surpassing beer

Which they offer freely to the dead men

Who, mistaking their proper paths, find there

A good substitute for Heaven.