Coversations with Death

Didn’t think
I’d make it
Through the night
Deaths been sitting
By my bed
Telling me stories
Of the good ol’ days

I wondered
About those days
Listening
To the tales
Not seeing deviation
From the present

Death enjoys
The weaving’s
He likes to use his hands
When he speaks
You’d think
He was Italian
Maybe a New York Jew

Always ends a line with
“Ya know what I’m sayin’ ?”

It seems
Deaths favorite
Take down moves
Are with
Star crossed lovers
And megalomaniacs

I asked…
“So what, There’s nothing
Special about John Q. Public?”

Death bummed a smoke
Shrugged his shoulders

“There’s just no drama.
Ya know what I’m sayin’?”

So I asked…
“Assassinations?”
“Too much press.”
“Suicides?”
“Too depressing.”
“Genocide?”
“Too much work”

It dawned on me
Death was bored
His bus driver job
Had it’s limitations
I sat up in bed
And lit a cig myself
Just me and Death
Sharing a smoke

Finally I got up
To make something to eat
Death followed
Standing over me
While I stirred the sauce

We sat around
Eating pasta
Playing Scrabble at 3am
He laid down….Necrosis
I played…Cessation
He played…Termination
I dug in with…Casualty

He stopped
And accused me
Of cheating

“Now how could I cheat Death?”
I said through the side
Of my mouth
Cigarette dangling

He said “Fagetaboutit”
And twirled his pasta
With a spoon
Thinking my question
Was rhetorical

~ by bindo on November 9, 2009.