Southampton Row I didnt see him fall, spread-eagled there Like someone snoozing after boozing up All afternoon

and losing everything Like a knocked-out boxer vanquished in the ring The middle of the roads his resting place Though rests the last thing on his mind, right now Sleep forever all, around you noise And taxi drivers swearing at the queue I passed by ten short feet from his clean shoes Admiring his immaculate attire The suit well pressed and lined in aqua silk His tie lay jaunty prone on his lapel The final sign he wasnt just asleep His lilac chequered shirt was open wide From bullish neck to mammoth, though tanned, girth With pad electrodes sticking to his sides Id thought that, from afar, this death seemed clear, Knocked down pedestrian took fatal turn, Not, beefy city gent struck down by bolt, Of lightning through the heart while walking home, Green boiler suited medics stood around, Two coppers talked and carefully noted down, The time and date that death came into town, And chased this well dressed man to Teheran*
* An old Persian proverb tells the story of a rich and mighty Persian who once walked in his garden with one of his servants. The servant cried that he had just encountered Death, who had threatened him. He begged his master to give him his fastest horse so that he could make haste and flee to Teheran, which he could reach that same evening. The master consented and the servant galloped off on the horse. On returning to his house, the master himself met Death, and questioned him. Why did you terrify and threaten my servant?

I did not threaten him; I only showed surprise in still finding him here when I planned to meet him tonight in Teheran, said Death.