Blue, Green, Red and Purple: Heart Attack
…when dat Death Man comes a knockin’ he sure aint for sissies… Betty Collins’s poem about heart attacks is appropriately harsh and uncompromising.
Now listen UP all ya mother fuckers listen up good
I got somethin’ ta tell youse that ya better hear right:
when ya get a heart attack in the middle of the night
it aint no good a-whinin’ that they didn’t tell ya nuttin’
if ya heard too much bullshit ‘bout some fog in ya gob
an’ ya heard some more bullshit ‘bout soft mist in ya mug
when dat Death Man comes a knockin’ he sure aint for sissies
and there sure aint no ceasin’ on the midnight with no pain;
ya ticker’s gonna fight him, gonna fight with might and main
gonna fight that ole black-hood guy, the scythe and sickle man
he gonna done his best ta cut ya wind, and it aint no good a’ cryin’:
aint nobody gonna hear ya ticker knock knock knock a-poundin
though it fair bust through ya ribs and go runnin’ down the road –
here’s the funny part of it, ya lousy body won’t move –
but ya gotta get them triple noughts a’ringin’ loud an’ clear
and now it’s up to Him above so pray that He’ll hear
that them ambos know they business and they aint out on strike fer pay:
coz ya kin hear the siren wailing getting’ louder closer louder
an’ they jes aint no better sound than the ambos at the door
if ya ‘half in love with easeful death’ ya kin fuck off right now
coz St. Peter is a-waitin’ and a janglin’ o’ his keys
if ya gonna dodge it this time – jus mak sure ya on your knees.
