- Walking Away from Death
Walking Away from Death
Sure, I had lunch with death, who was happy to pick up the check.
Convinced I was in an allegory, I tended to avoid prime facts. Death
was a glutton who couldn’t handle alcohol and started sloppy anecdotes
that trailed off into shaggy goat stories with no endings in sight.
A Disney dog trotted by wearing cowbells. Death said, “Seriously now, who will
win the Super Bowl this year?” then doubled over with laughter: “You won’t know
how it or anything else comes out.” So I walked away into an afternoon
that wasn’t playing with a full deck of colors. Who wanted to be in the immediate
vicinity when death regained consciousness with a giant hangover? Otherwise, things
were uneventful. Spotted a one-eyed cat, leapt out of the path of a runaway bus, [End Page 47]
joined a Gregorian chant choir, got married. Don’t know what became of death.
One of these days, I plan to ring up my entire past for a chat. [End Page 48]
James Doyle’s sixth poetry book is The Long View Just Keeps Treading Water (Accents Publishing). He has been featured in the Notre Dame Review, Atlantic Review, and Mid-American Review.