A Drink with Death

Death dropped by this afternoon,

having taken the form of a grinning skeletal burro

that I saw at the Mexican market,

wrapped in a colorful blanket,

sociable as always–

helping himself to tequila

and offering me a glass as if he were the host.

When I called him on it,

good-naturedly, as amigos do,

He said, “Don’t worry, ‘Manito.

You can do the same at my place

when you come

to stay.”

 

Copyright 2016

T. Allen Culpepper

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