I walk amongst
The living
& because
I have died
I know who
Will be next.
He sat,
Barely,
On the bus
So languid
That he could trip
Just blinking
While sitting
In place…
He had been
Drunk for years
Decades,
& the voices
Were screamin'
“Dead Man!
Dead man!
Tell him
He's a dead man.”
Another man
Stumbled onto
The bus
He could barely
Stay conscious
His eyes rolled up
In his head.
He didn't want
To miss his stop
But he had
Lost all control
Of his eyelids…
“Dead Man!
He's one too!”
The voices
Don't just scream
In words…
But in emotions
In knowing's
Of the how's
And how long…
I audibly hissed
Out loud,
“Shut up!”
People stared at me.
I didn't care.
I cranked up
The volume
On my
Ipod.
I buried my
Nose in my
Book…
My protests
Were useless.
A third man
Got on
The bus
And I wondered
How close
We were
To the river
Styx.
He was
Younger than
The other men
I could hear
His excuses
“I know what
I'm doin'
I can stop
Any time
And still make
It to the bus.”
But the voices
Showed me
The next 10 years
The next 20 years
He was still
A dead man.
Two young men
Got off the bus
With me,
& laughed
As they talked about
How funny
The drunks were
Stumbling around
So drunk
They can't even
Get out of the sprinklers
When they turn on.
They scream
And cry
Trying to get
Away from the water
And can't
For the life of them
Do it.
The sadness
Washed over me
& I didn't
Think it was funny.
Those men
Were going to die
& I knew how
And it wasn't
Funny
At all.
