ONE Transient visit of death lingers as eyes open to pre-dawn light. Life lies motionless, resting in unnerving peace. Each night a little death Each sunrise a resurrection. TWO Above the golf course, vultures adrift on thermals, The wait is short when poisons bloom. Uniform fairway and short-cropped green, Short yellow flags caution children not to play, this is an adult game. THREE His wife's frozen head, like some hellish trophy, awaits his demise and their reunion in cryogenic Disney World. But while he lives, his OJ and geritol are accompanied by capsules of her cremains. Heaven cannot wait. FOUR Jim Beam, crushed and empty, lies in the gutter (another dead soldier on High Street). One way dead end at the cemetery, Still, more board the Night Train. FIVE Like Melville's white whale, the foreign observer evades the attack of Ashanti anger. The body now laid in the ground, good and drunk, tonight they will fight death.

Copyright � 1996 Ian Lynch. All rights reserved