Death and Tacos Erasure Poem                       
                        after Nathaniel Whittemore 

 

Waiting                for my number to be called

Foot against a curb                                        

                                   hold your breath?                                               

                                                                            like Louis Armstrong   

How much better                             

                                         giving  gracious consent       See ya
          

Death     sad sack of lonely-self        slumped somewhere