. . . Just Thumbin' Down the Reaper
Just thumbin' down The Reaper
Sinking down in sin, lies, and smoke deeper and deeper.
I know that ridin' might be cheaper
I'm just standin' here thumbin' down The Reaper.
I've heard he's a nasty jug of ugly bones
A filthy hood and mournful moans.
A sickle sharp and curses low
Beggin' us fools to faint and go.
Now dat ol' Reaper he's not my kin
He's a shadow thin of skinny skin.
Feet of bone and hands of ice
Pets a serpent and feeds *us rice.
I'm thumbin' down The Reaper
The whore's a nice girl, but I can't keep her.
I got her once, maybe thrice
Reaper sold her coat and gamblin' dice.
Ol' Reaper's the funniest thang
Showed hisself in my dern's and dang's.
Middle of cotton field so white
At my bedside at stroke of midnight.
I'm just thumbin' down The Reaper
Such a soothing gent
Although walking, stalking and running
Wouldn't cost me this last cent.
I know it's wrong, but Reaper don't judge
He sticks his blade dripping with sludge.
Licking his bones he flicks his cloak
Slaps his bony legs at what I spoke.
Now I'm thumbin' down The Reaper
He got no name, but what a creeper.
No jail time and hates thu' sunshine
Ol' Reaper dat new buddy o' mine.
Wind's pickin' up and Reaper's late
Hounds-a lickin' my soul at Devil's gate.
I hear his teeth a clicking away off
I'm ridin' with Reaper jumpin' outta da loft.
*us rice--could be understood as the smallest of compassionate acts of still life.
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© 2016 Kenneth Avery