More and more of us came to listen
to the stirring words of the man who took away our sick.
I will say I already had good reason to suspect him, from an incident years ago.
The gracious among us would invite him in for cider
when he called for our elderly and infirm.
His hearse would
carry away our invalids as they lay mumbling on a stretcher in the back.
In listening to the man’s words, we were seeking health advice.
Instead, the words’ twisting echoes made us
sick.
And that in turn lead him to ferry ever more of us away.
In the end, he told me:
“The sick—I’ve put them where they’ll mumble on forever.
In the mortuary walls.”
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