10 February 2014

THE ANGEL OF DEATH SPEAKS by Jean Jones

I follow and talk to people also, you know. To their
Houses, cars, to where they keep their pills, garages,
Guns. I whisper to children as they walk along sidewalks:
I tell them to run out in front of that passing car.
Sometimes they listen, then again, sometimes they don’t.
I also talk to animals. I tell them the places where
The most cars go through. I also follow strangers
Whenever they’re together, especially when they start
Towards motels. I say to one, “Hurry up, get it over
With, one twist, and then leave the thing behind.”
And then there are the people who live alone, in tenement
Shacks, who watch TV. I tell them I know a wonderful
Place, without commercials, to drop everything behind
And follow. Sometimes they do, then again, sometimes
They don’t.

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Jean Arthur Jones is an award-winning American poet and an editor. He is co-editor with Bruce Whealton for the online magazine Word Salad Poetry Magazine. Jean lives in the Wilmington, Cape Fear North Carolina area

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