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This just in:
I’m not dead,
So,
Spare me your condolences.

Last I checked,
My reflection was unchanged:
Brown hair, streaked red
Skin, gently aging
Eyes bright, still green
Funky glasses, sometimes.
Not a zombie smile in sight.

So, why the long face?

I’m not dead,
So,
Spare me your condolences.
And put down your rosaries,
Will you?

My phone number is the same,and
Unlike gods of old,
I don’t even require a prophet,
40 years lost in the desert
Tablets smashed,
The unfaithful decimated,
Wailing “Adonai” as they are devoured
-Over visual voicemail.

So, why the uncomfortable silence?

I’m not dead,
So,
Spare me your condolences
Your prayers
And your concern.

I’ve already been saved, and
As a refugee
From prefabricated salvation
Ephemeral life spent certain, at cost
Of legendary life eternal.
I’m actually doing quite fine,
Thanks!