Another interesting way to die that I'll never experience

Thinking about being beheaded
on the top step of Coba temple,
a cab unhitched from its trailer,
relieved of my freight, dropping
a hundred and sixty epiphanies,
one for each step: at last, I get you,
Jackson Pollock, pissing blood
in cartwheels, spinning past
the lazy sods who stop half-way
for a sneaky chuff, (Ta-ra losers!
See you never!) pinballing off statues
of eagle-headed Lords of Maize,
yelling: Fear not, dear Gods,
although your empire stands to fall,
your calendar remains a bestseller.
Then on, gathering speed,
centrifugal, grinning sweetly,
it’s the world that spins, not me!
I prepare to meet my stack:
the heads of bad sports, bad poets,
the heads of the purest children,
all smiling up, I am coming
my heart, I have so much news.