I first meet death at the
Swan lake ballet
We exchange no words;
But we both stop to say 'hello'
And in curiosity, observe.
I meet death at an airport terminal
He is wearing a bowler hat;
Reminds me of that
Rene Magritte painting of a man
With an apple for a face.
(Son of man, the painting's called,
I googled it just now -
And for some reason I decide that
Death would like this name as well.)
I meet my aunt at the gate, she's waiting for
A late flight to Scotland.
She hugs me close and smiles and laughs
And death waits patiently for me.
I next meet death
Aboard a pirate ship
He speaks in feelings, not in words,
He has no face, no eyes nor lips, and yet
Despite this obvious handicap
We understand each other fine.
Men are dying all around us,
All assisted suicides,
One man holds the noose, the other jumps
The sea and sky are blue and wide.
They hang like streamers from the gunwales
From the portholes and starboard
And they swing in the breeze like
Morbid, pallid marionettes -
I wonder why they had to die.
Death has no time for me, he must keep moving
People don't just die, y'know
He euthanizes for their crimes
Death likes to keep to schedule,
He keeps his pocketwatch well-wound.
I will see death again, I'm sure
One day I'll know him intimately
He'll arrive unannounced but
Of course I'll be expecting him.