The Way to Die

Drove into a river yesterday,

my car hissed like a pissed cat.

CD sang a garbled Pink Floyd

my windows said no you don’t.

I listened not sure why

brain said drink up water’s fresh.

Swim my son, swim, don’t stay

to visit with your steering wheel,

it has nothing to say, it is dead.

You see we’re all dead, a virus

they say but hell wear a mask and just ask

for tickets to San Paulo where masks have holes.

Damned my boy we are living in the holes of life,

I heard my horn incoherently screaming “get out!”