If Death Comes Looking
Prey to pitying patterns, my week is broken into serious sectors.
by Andy Brookes
when did I become so predictable, my book of hours split like a monks
into hours of prayer, if I prayed, but I see God has deserted heaven
vacating the high seat to the far right and Evangelicals in despair.
So this is what waiting for death is like, I wonder, not for the first time,
what the hell are we doing here? A unanswered unequivocaluniversal question.
Like scrabbling ants plundering the wealth of the earth to gain wealth, for what?
we die, hasthe pursuit done us any good? Our destinationis deaths decimal point a tally in his book of the dead.
so my secateured sectored days seem so remote from reality
and you know that suits me fineand if death comes, he'll know where
to find me on a weekly basis, but I'm in no hurry to die just yet.