last call

Death, my old friend
i perch upon this french quarter stoop to drink with you
raise your bourbon and meet my glass
let us not speak of darkness and gathering gloom
but the eternal feast ahead
shall we sing to the stars or the waning orb?

Death, my old friend
i knew one day we’d dance here under gas lamps and galleries
take in deep once more the mighty mississippi
let us send whatever coins and mardi gras doubloons left in our pockets
skipping across cobblestones before sunrise
have we enough time for chess?

Death, my old friend
i welcome you with open arms
a promise kept, though liquor-drenched
let us relive our glory, our lifelong courtship with
one more wine before locking arms and stumbling towards the abyss
will you whisper one last story?

Death, my old friend
i perch upon this french quarter stoop to drink with you