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+---
+title: "Death's trumpet"
+id: deathstrumpet
+genre: verse
+
+project:
+    title: Elegies for alternate selves
+    class: elegies
+    order: 28
+    prev:
+      title: 'To Daniel: an elaboration'
+      link: todaniel
+
+epigraph:
+    content: |
+        So Death plays his little [fucking](apollo11.html) trumpet.
+        So what, says the boy.
+    attrib: Larry Levis
+...
+
+He didn't have any polish so he spit-shined the whole thing, \
+top to bottom.  It gleamed like maybe a tomato on the vine \
+begging to be picked and thrown on some caprese.  Death loved caprese.
+
+He stood up and put the horn to his lips, imagining \
+it was a woman he loved.  He blushed as he realized \
+it was a terrible metaphor.  \
+He practiced for six hours a day---what else to do?
+
+Death looks at [himself in the mirror][moongone] as he plays.  \
+The trumpet is suspended in midair.  Damn vampire rules.  \
+Death is always worried he might have missed a spot shaving \
+but he'll never know unless a stranger is polite enough.  \
+Not that he ever goes out or meets anyone.
+
+He wakes up late these days.  Stays in bed later.  \
+He thinks he might be depressed.  The caprese has gotten soggy \
+since he made it, maybe three days ago or maybe just two.  \
+The sun streams through his kitchen blinds like smoke.  \
+He decides to go to the arcade.  When he gets there,
+
+there's only a [little boy][] with dead eyes.  So far so good.  \
+He's playing a first-person shooter.  Death walks past him \
+and watches out of the corner of his eye.  The kid's good.  \
+Death wants to congratulate him.  His trumpet is in his hand.
+
+[moongone]: moongone.html
+[little boy]: angeltoabraham.html