July 2000

Reverse Stalking Death

There he was-
tan and flabby,
petting his tabby,
with a cane at his right hand side.

Driving, as always, with half and eye on the road I sawr him. Starring at the black, dark clouds rolling towards Thisapolis like they do every day to dump rain and lighting

this week I sawr him in his front yard on his bench under a tree looking at what he hoped was his impending doom
shocked?
No
but the cat was walking away-I'm having none of this!
As if it knew what the old man longed for

There he was-
tan and flabby,
petting his tabby,
with a cane at his right hand side.

What was I to think? Let him be?
Maybe he likes things this way

Reverse stalking Death. Lucky man.

Two lanes, we are turning left -
turning into our death -
We are all gonna die, that we know,
Standing in line
waiting for hours to live our lives
only to find
one maybe two
moments of groping
or searching
then finding
when
-whops-
it's over.

This man more than knows it.

Death won't see him coming,
but come upon him tan and flabby
petting his tabby,
with a cane at his right hand side.

So it is.
I find him in his way, harms way
waiting, not longing, tho'. for the End.
gone.
Maybe tonight was his night.