i will not eat alone, at home
it’s a terrifying thought to me
for what if I choke on a bit of bread
with no one to see, I’d soon be dead!
I will not drive after dark
it seems unwise to me
for those who haunt the road of 4 a.m.
are lurkers of liquor cabinets, and those whose sleep’s forsaken…
No, I fast in fear
and my car remains quite in park
no need to temp fate, I think
so I will not eat or drive, instead I sleep…
you’d call me crazy, say I’m dead all ready!
but I think not, you’ll see—
when eating your sandwich and pie
alone in your home one inparticular night
down the wrong pipe it’ll go
your neighbors won’t hear you, oh no
and you’ll choke to death in your underwear
all sprawled out in your living room, I fear…
and the next day, when you’re late to work
and your phone rings out and doorbell won’t chime
they’ll send policemen and coroner to break down your front door
and there you’ll be
the coffinman will declare, with sardonic glee
it would’ve been better if you’d listened to me.