Death is now available in many forms
It’s been hording and taking main roads
The obese woman in the wheelchair
The dusty 56 year old priest
Picking butts from his flowerbed
A child kicking a Coke can.
Death’s got a shopping list and car trouble
He takes the bus
And enjoys earl gray tea, new pillow covers
And staring out windows.
He learns German, dresses well
And does sets of 25 press ups.
He smokes Marlboro, listens to Bowie,
Strolls supermarket isles
And believes in first impressions.
He’s got a loud voice
And a pugilist’s battered mug.
He writes poetry.