Grizzly terrestrial dramas make me wonder
how I might get murdered.
Some days I think I’ll be hit in the soft part
of my head splitting up a street fight.
Others, a bullet through the throat
for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I used to think I was prime kidnap material
but I’m a bit too worthless for that now.
In truth I’m the kind of guy who will die
sneezing a little too hard on a train platform
or for thinking a bit too much.

© Carl Burkitt 2020