The narrative voice was doing the math in my head last night about all the death in the human animal over the last sixty-six years.  It came out to close to two billion people dead over the course of my life.  That is a lot of souls to keep track of when one is trying to have a conversation.  Mind you, that is just the humans.  There are other souls out there as well.

On a daily basis, if Blue Oyster Cult is correct, that is forty thousand every day.  The narrative voice came up with about fifteen hundred deaths by violence every day one year.  I wonder sometimes of The Horsemen carry ledgers in their saddle bags or is it more of a free rein situation.  Death covers all of the situations, so why bother breaking it down into Pestilence, War, and Famine.  It is not like they are under the auspices of the World Health Organization or anything.

I remember the billboard that had in big letters “The wages of sin is death” when I got off the bus, but I never have figured out where those horsemen figure into the hierarchy of the heavens.

Never Forget, Remember the Maine, They Sank the Lusitania, Remember the Alamo, Remember the Pueblo, or Mi Lai, Wounded Knee, Masada, Dachau, Buchenwald’s Bitch,  Hastings, Pearl Harbor, Spanish Flu, Nagasaki, Nanking, on and on and on.

The only dead people I see are in cemeteries, graveyards, memorials and then only because the sun casts a shadow of the stones as it moves across the sky.  Sometimes there are shadows flickering in mercury vapor or incandescent bulbs.  I do hear the whispers of the dead and the living mingled together.  I do not have to put them into a corpse to hear them either.

About johnsmithiiimxiii

John Smith, IIMXIII is the avatar of an award winning poet, artist, etc. who still lives in the Palouse country of the Pacific NW. He has not received much notice with his prose . . . but as his avatar, I hope that he keeps plugging along.

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