#83 - Okay, But There's A Tram Coming

Dutifully, Jack replicated his death
from his part in a production of the Pardoner's Tale,
which I had missed due to my escalating affair

with Death.
He clutched at his lapels, dug parentheses
into the skin over his collar bone
and howled up at the streetlamp

which, brilliantly, chose that moment to strobe;
his howl grew choked as he simulated
the poison's closing of his throat and he dropped
onto his knees against the snowy cobblestones,
going now cod-eyed and cod-gobbed

God, I thought, I can see why everyone
was making such a fuss about my missing this,

then, of course, with perfect fidelity
to his part, he wedged his boot toe
in the tracks. He tugged and yanked

until the tram grew big as God.