Acquiescence toward mortality

Management here at

Highland Manor Apartments sent out word

that tomorrow, January twenty third,

two thousand and twenty one,

we (all residents) will receive the first (of two)

inoculations to stave off getting COVID-19,

hence mine poetic title might seem absurd.

Aforementioned stance toward death

obviously antithetical

regarding desire to stay alive

and most oppressive

when mine mental, physical

and/or spiritual yours truly

takes a (swan) dive

analogous where bajillion bees

swarm from their hive.

Linkedin with well known poem by and by

penned by Emily Dickinson, I didst decry

expressed her relief to die

"Because I could not stop for Death,"

she aptly crafted verses to comply

reverently, merrily, and gloriously accepting

cessation of existence well nigh

as does one garden variety generic goofy guy.

All natural catastrophes aside,

plus excluding thermonuclear war,

where civilization would get fried

nullifying idea viz,

let conscience be your guide,

nor no place to run and hide

left to grapple with dystopian quandary

shuttering fright housed inside

in one poof annihilating prejudice

(white privilege included) and pride

reducing to ashes trumpeting

self importance, where snide

persona grata becomes irrelevant

as does living social

or vacationing in Telluride.

Interestingly enough,

I do not entertain notions

inflicting self harm nor suicide,

but expect longevity (to ride

one after another orbitz around the sun)

maximum total (represented courtesy

value units and tens place)

at minimum exceeds double digits

in plain English aged

to perfection groom and bride

attains at least ninety nine years.

Despite skittering within hair's breadth or blink

looming over the edge no time to think,

cuz no matter being knight in shining armor

I can scrunch and squint thru visored chink,

and espy and the title

of a storied book by Tom Wolfe I think

Old Rotten Gotham sliding into behavioral sink,

amidst so much flotsam and jetsam

while singing Skidamarink

surrender unavoidable fate

cuz destiny dis rapper doth not shrink

and recognizes that whatever does not kill

will only make me stronger

(money back guarantee)

I attain a spry five score birthdays

and while away hours

playing solitary game of tiddlywink.