I have seen the carriage passing by
With Emily inside;
it is moving day.
Franchot Tone takes a holiday
to help. The reaper signs
his lease.
Though boxes be lost, most are not.
Even abstract concepts, parts of nature
can’t get good help these days.
And death shall have condominium.

The freight elevator snaps a
frayed cable snaps–
plummeting, it kills the super.
Super.
Rental truck rolls, rolls
its brakes broken; oh,
the incline, oh, the landlord,
oh, the humanity.
Though deaths be coincidental, there must be
a connection; the tenants are dropping like flies.
And death shall have condominium.

There’s no one left to talk with now.
He couldn’t help his name–
he wasn’t here on business, just wanted a room
of his own, although he cannot stand it, stopping here,
For year by year, he is alone.
Again.
Though neighbors be dead, one thing is good.
The reaper, cold fish that he is,
has the pool all to himself.
And death shall have condominium.