They won’t live for ever. The bell tolls for them, too.
They’ll fall prey to infection. A tumour. The flu.
A rampant addiction to cocaine or ket.
Tertiary syphilis. A bite from a pet.
Food that’s lodged in their throat, and a Heimlich manoeuvre
no-one bothers to offer. Sex games with a Hoover.
Asthma. Assassins. An army of ants.
A bee sting. An avalanche, ski-ing in France.
A fall from a building. A weakened aorta.
An overdue drowning in phlegm, or deep water.
A venomous snake. A bomb in a box.
A swim in a creek packed with saltwater crocs.
A bullet. A blowout. The end of a rope.
Something will get them. Remember, there’s hope.
© Steve Pottinger 17 Feb 2025