"Oh Death"

A poem adapted from Roud Folk Song Index #4933

Image from Khemmis’ single “A Conversation with Death,” adapted from the same folk song as my poem

“Oh Death”

Roud Folk Song Index #4933

Examining blue     fingertips . . .

I feel his tearing teeth     cut through my flesh.
I sense his curling tongue     upon my bones.
His weathered fingers grope—     in white skin flush.
His rotten arms surround     my neck—it burns.

“Oh, Death, you’ve found me     laid out in my bed—
damned hungry too,     that much is far too clear.
What can I get you?     Other men? Go feed
on them—my sinful peers—     that's only fair.”

Skeleton rattling, Death     laughs hoarsely.
“What can you buy me,     mortal man? Those other men?
A herd of cattle? Rivers’ fish?     Ha! Hardly!
Gnawed bones fill graves;     I come right back again.”

“Then my soul is yours.     I am your slave.”
“God damn your soul! And it     won’t matter if you’re brave.”

I wince—at black saliva     pooling—on his lips . . .

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Previously published at Exquisite Death.

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