On the arrival of death news

we were watching a video and your phone rang;

it could’ve been anybody.

who knew it would be death?

who knew you would go from laughing to 

grim, grim desolation

in the fraction of a second?

your face told me everything there was to know,

which was 

simply

that death had called.

nonchalant. matter of fact. over and done with. 

now there is only tumult and mayhem and an

inexplicable heaviness.

absolutely no prospect now

of meeting the lady i never would’ve met anyway,

and yet. 

the interview tomorrow seems so…

futile. like a joke almost.

going on as usual 

when we know

death

has our phone numbers.