"No horse! What good
is a horseman with no horse?"
Anger coursed
through Death's non-existent veins,
as he stood, tapping his scythe
to the ground,
in the pouring rain.
He pounds
a rhythm of annoyance,
lets out a not
so silent cuss
as he awaits the bus.
He scans the bus timetable,
glancing at the electronic departure screen.
Checks the app
on his smart communication device.
Checks his watch for the thirteenth time
"Where the fuck is this bus?
I swear I'm gonna commit a crime.
I'm gonna swing for the driver,
cut their life short of its prime"
He says, scythe already in hand,
spinning wildly
in a manic swirl of angry energy.
"Third time this week already,
Why put the bus on the timetable
if it’s just some mystic fable,
Why leave us waiting,
like a stale loaf on a deserted table,
Some of us have work to do"
He groans, swiping over his Facebook feed,
to pass the minutes.
He feels his energy bleed.
People live on,
long after they are supposed to be gone,
A zombie surge
not yet taken where they belong,
"Fuck it I'll get an Uber"
He berates
tapping the app,
hating the ache
of times slow grating
The people have a date
with death, but he is late.
Thanks for reading
Endless Nightmares out now
300 pages of horror themed poetic storytelling
Please take a look at my previous collection "Torn Pages"
100+ all new poems not shared here before.
https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages
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