What do you think this poem is about?   'Yes', he thought,
'everyone will die', except 'moi'- Death the lot of a bourgeois
whose kids insure a 'kinda' immortality'.  So it was with some
surprise that, getting up, one morn and stumbling to the john he
voided a stream of velvety, red urine,  and, heart racing,
imaged the boy whose closed, dark-fringed eyes and snowy
fingers, clasped in a rosary's grip, long ago convinced him not
to die.  Then, holding despair at bay, dutifully (though with
shaking hands) rang his doctor, dreading more than cancer any
answer that might compromise a creditable lie.  And, to cut
short a tale already too long, suffered the interventions of a
specialist, who, disappointed, diagnosed a stone. and promptly
dismissed him.  'See', he said, 'I was right! ' Death's for
poor, stupid sinners And slept, that night, unusually tight and
went, the next, as usual, to dinner.  Submitted: Tuesday,
November 12, 2013 Edited: Monday, November 18, 2013  Comments
about this poem (Surprise by Morgan Mic