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English
well damn
you write about this death visiting you like it happenes every damn day!! yeah, I remember my dog, and my grandpa, why you bring this up? I dont drink scotch, knock on someone elses door, hehe ;)
love your prosey stuff DA, good work giving the bony old fucker a silhouette :P
This
~and putting his hands
on his clacky-clack knees
which pop when he
stands up
because death is an old,
old creaking man.~
Is Great.
Death hangs with me too...he aint that scary but he does mooch all my scotch.
I figure I get it back in the afterlife.
Whimsy a bit too accurate.
"i only got five bucks,
death. and you're
drinking all my
scotch."
Bravo!
excellent
One of those poems you're glad you read. :)
One thing:
death laughed and
tossed the bottle
back
and i could hear
his teeth chattering
on the mouth of
the bottle.
Maybe your could change the first bottle to drink or something similar?
*no thermometer
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