A Conversation With Death

This piece was written under a unique inspiration, and received praise by the National Ametuer Poetry Contest.

Prologue

It was another ordinary trip to Saint Louis Bread Company, or Panera to outsiders. I was sitting waiting for my food while a Nigerian employee cleared plates and cleaned tables. The man had a slight upward arch to his face, what some call a “smile.” I asked the man, “Why are you in such a good mood?” This would propel a conversation I will never forget. The man just responded, “Life, life is good.” He disappeared into the kitchen with dishes, but returned moments later. By this time, I had my food. Wiping a table clean, this man said, “You know, I met death once.” Surprised, “You met…death?” He retorted, “Yes, man named death.”

I once met a man
Whose name was Death
I am face to face with Death
Death holds a nine millimeter

I say the wrong thing
Death pulls the trigger
A dog doesn’t back down
A dog goes in for the kill

Nothing you say will stop the dog
Not until he has finished the attacked
Dog doesn’t listen to reason
Death thinks like dog

Death has a friend
Who holds a cutlass to my back
If I try to run
Death’s friend buries the steel into my back

My mother used to tell me
Dancing will save the soul
I see a girl
I grab her hand
We dance away
As if our hearts don’t beat

This man, whose name I would never learn, had grown up in a very rough area in Nigeria. There was a large, corrupt military presence. He never told me what exactly what hardships he faced, but I was able to infer it may be related to the Conflict in The Niger Delta or Conflict With Boko Haram. (Read more Here or Here) His mother had told him to flee the country. It was a hard decision to make, but eventually he followed through. After facing off with the grim reaper, he ran to find his female companion. They fled the country and came to America. He was never able to speak to his mother again.