From f00d869e4c0e64be6093e4980e62e3c9b9b33cc9 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001
From: Case Duckworth
Date: Thu, 29 Jan 2015 10:36:44 -0700
Subject: Add links to Elegies; write TODO.txt

---
 43-deathstrumpet.txt | 35 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 1 file changed, 35 insertions(+)
 create mode 100644 43-deathstrumpet.txt

(limited to '43-deathstrumpet.txt')

diff --git a/43-deathstrumpet.txt b/43-deathstrumpet.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5069904
--- /dev/null
+++ b/43-deathstrumpet.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,35 @@
+---
+title: 'Death's Trumpet'
+project: 'Elegies for Alternate Selves'
+epigraph: 'So Death plays his little fucking trumpet.  So what, says the boy.'
+epigraph-credit: '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]: 28-moongone.html
+[little boy]: 15-angeltoabraham.html
-- 
cgit 1.4.1-21-gabe81