Death in the Suburbs

Death drove a truck

Last night during rush hour
I saw Death
drive a little red truck
Death’s disguise was perfect
I felt safe
he wasn’t looking in his rear-view mirror at me
Death was following someone else
the experience was very matter-of-fact
Death himself looked ordinary.

Except for his black cowl
Death looked just like a fresh-faced kid.

He was really Death
the genuine article.

Imagine Death being a kid
nobody else noticed Death
driving down 124th street.

That amazed me.

I suppose they’d have panicked if they did
so their defenses kicked in
but I didn’t panic.

He was really Death
other people have dulled senses
they’re insensitive
too disinterested
to see the threat.

His name was Death
he drove a cheap pickup truck
he looked like a kid.

The only thing strange
about seeing Death
driving down 124th street
was his little truck
every other time that I saw him
Death drove a Camaro.

“There are intangible realities which float near us, formless and without words;
realities which no one has thought out, and which are excluded for lack of interpreters.” (Natalie Clifford Barney)

Rush Hour. (finger painting on wet film)

Rush Hour. (finger painting on wet film)