There is a sound in the distance,
Alien and distant,
A resonance shooting,
Out of earshot,
Retiring
And going in circles
A chill to the bones
A curdle to blood,
An orator of a requiem to be,
Singly in a chorus
Acoustic the message,
Damocles, the villain And death, a mere handshake.
The city morgue is morose,
Pellets of roses descending,
Angrily,
On a virgin casket
Savage the salvo,
Catholic the blitz
And forever, The aftermath.
An EMS is in pursuit,
A number plate waves,
“PDQ” behind “ASAP” a front
Charging after life,
Destination: “not the afterlife”
Cowardly he blasts screaming,
“Faster, faster you outcast” Death is, but a mere breath.
But even without stop signs,
Without delay in traffic,
Without a road sign to disobey
With all the right of way,
One-ways, or the always
All ways, All ways lead to roaming, A scene in replay.
Long is life,
Adventurous and wild,
And skanking sweet before 40
Driveways are promising,
A pleasant sight at kilometres,
But oh, my daring darling friend,
Mother tongue will stammer,
When the only thing,
Between life and death, Is a muddy driveway, Untraveled.
“Lie then to me,”
Yours will be different though,
A shining light to losing eyes,
Atop a government vehicle,
Wailing repulsively,
Another life inhaling compulsively,
Within and without sprayed effusively,
One off, two or more on
But until then,
The last scene conclusively starts,
With a corpse, two men
And a million more absent,
Dodging air behind masks.
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