Dead Basil Leaves

Death is old
And decrepit for us now
We have grown with him;
Hah!
He has waited for us while in diapers and
Ancient he was then and with skin like ash.
He has waited while we played among the dirt
In the playground earth we put our hands into
He was hiding and munching on dead basil leaves
Our first orgasm called to him and so he came as we came
And stood above us, watching silently,
Bony fingers clenching,
unclenching.
First born of our flesh, the first cry
There death was, his eyes banked fires
His hand administered the first spank.
The first hospital visit for a valve bypass
He sat in gray surgical scrubs waving to all the people he knew
But he was obviously getting tired by then and his eyes
Were embers, flickering embers.
Then went the child of our flesh forward into the world
And death sat in the captain's chair of flight whatever its number was
Munching on peanuts and avoiding turbulence.
Left alone with us, death sat on the comfiest chair
His back hurt he was thinking of retiring
His throat hurt he sucked on a lozenge
His barbed teeth were plastic.
We sit and drink the finest Scotch
Cards are always out we keep losing money to the world
We smoke Cuban cigars because what'll they do if they catch us
What'll they do to us
Our arteries are clogged
Our lungs are black
Our eyes are bright
Our laughs are quick.
In the corner death sits, waiting and watching,
Taking his pain medication,
Rubbing his eyes and trying not to fall asleep,
And we know him well, we have known him long;
And death, well, he is old,
And decrepit for us now-
Hah!
We play another hand of poker.

copyright 2007 Idan Cohen
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Barnwood magazine
Contents 07