The speaker imagines their own death and funeral, and the picture is deliberately deflating. The opening lines show an awkward exit: slipping out a side door, backing away from a kiss that never landed, holding a piece of fruit that went bad before it ever ripened. Together they suggest a life of missed chances and unfulfilled promise.
The rest answers a series of questions with small, sad jokes. Instead of a grand hearse, there is an airport trolley. Instead of grieving family and friends, there are lost umbrellas, things nobody came back for. The requiem is a "spiritual trauma," and the obituary is only "an embarrassed cough," the sound people make when they don't know what to say.
The mood is darkly comic but quietly bleak. The speaker seems to feel unimportant, even a little ashamed, and expects to be forgotten or met with awkward silence. The humor is a way of facing that fear without self-pity, though the sadness stays underneath.