Polite Death

Polite Death

Sir, you’re being paged

by Existence.

Yes, it seems that you’ve left your headphones in
so long that you missed morning coffee,
the question from the professor,
and the piece of chalk aimed, squarely, at your forehead.

We, the rest of the citizens of Existence, would
appreciate your headphones coming out of their lobes—
realizing the pain caused after they’ve been ripped from their
permanently formed resting places—
and being eaten by a pack of wild Pomeranians.

We do not wish to listen to your trip-hop Ultimate mix of Death City.
Is that even a band?
This is Philosophy,
and if you don’t answer Existence’s page,
you’ll be removed from it.

By, about, 37 people.


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