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#224

15 Dec

Me and Death                       (published in Abbey, 2003)

“I’m not afraid to die—I just don’t
want to be there when it happens.”
         –Woody Allen

I called in sick that day
Sorry, couldn’t make it
Flu, you know
Maybe food poisoning
Throwing up all morning
Let’s reschedule

Death bought my excuse
I never got back to him

We almost ran into each other
A couple of times
But I usually saw him first
And ducked into women’s bathrooms
Or hid behind buses
Or left the parties early
Sneaking out the back door
Huddled in my date’s coat

Then he started calling me at home
And leaving nasty messages on my machine
       “This is Death.
        We need to talk.”
               or
       “Death again.
        You can’t avoid me forever.”
               or finally
       “Pick up. Pick up.”
        I know you’re there.”
               and then a lot of loud cussing
(Death has got a mouth on him)

But now he’s stalking me
I had to quit my job
So he can’t find me there
And I’m changing my phone number
And if that doesn’t work
I guess I’ll just have to move

To Buffalo or something

 
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Posted by on December 15, 2013 in previously published

 

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