The following is from

The Azazeel Poems

aka
I know youre in love with Death
Two
Rolf Auer, 29 April 2015 c.e. aka A.D. We ~10:51
In my mortal previous life,
I was a pacifist.
He was the de facto dictator
of the world.
My wife Azazeel
aka The Angel of Death
and I wondered aloud
after dinner one day
how to do him.
I proposed
that I pose as a
journalist seeking
to write his biography.
That definitely would appeal
to his massive ego,
mattter-of-factly stated Azazeel,
These types cant resist
bragging about
writers coming to them
on their knees
The big day with
the big man
soon arrived.
I was quietly ushered
into his august presence.
The de facto dictator of the world
was guarded by minimal security.
Self-consciously earnest, I began the interview.
Circumstances today
are rife with turmoil, struggle

and unrest. Was your ordeal

much different?
I had to overthrow the
previous government, he replied.
With armed might?
Thats often the case.
Were there many casualties
on your side?
Quite a few, actually.
Nearly a pyrrhic victory.
And civilians, too?
The people greeted
me with open arms
and cheered me, he asserted, as I
remembered all the empty streets
I saw while driving to his
palatial headquarters.
Youve instituted reforms, then?
I had to override
environmental concerns, yes.
Aside from that,
its business as usual.
Your countrys exceptional history
of serial usurped governments presently
seems stable, and yet I trailed off,
ostensibly pensive, hoping for a nibble
on the bait.
Its had its ups and downs,
I admit, but with me
as head of state,
stability is the
order of the day, he smiled,
yet not with his lizard eyes.
What are your countrys

major industries?
Are they resource-based?
Oil, mining, money crops.
You know he said shrugging,
and spreading his hands,
disingenuously disparaging
his answers importance.
These are nationalized? I queried.
The people have
no business acumen.
Im providing crucial
guidance in that respect, yes,
he said, glancing
at the wall clock.
That was my cue.
Whats crime like?
What do you mean? he almost snarled,
locking his eyes on mine.
I mean, is there more
crime now or less?
And what about corruption?
He bristled at
my brazen, bold insinuation.
You know, crime
is difficult to control
even at the best of times!
Are there more murders now? I prodded.
Times are tough.
You know how it gets.
Have you tried increasing
the police? I led him.
That didnt help.
I dropped the
$64-million-dollar question:

Have you ever personally killed anyone?

He started. He wasnt expecting that.
This interview is terminated! he angrily snapped.
My aide will see you out.
Later, I reviewed the
interview with Azazeel,
smilingly mocking my whining intonations
that crept unwelcome into my last question to him.
She laughed at my recollection of his abrupt response.
Signs point to yes, she chuckled.
She brandished a report
by Human Rights Watch
tallying that countrys recent disappeared
as numbering in the thousands,
especially among the vulnerable.
Too bad we dont have
a breakdown of the prevalent types
of deaths there, she declared.
In light acknowledgement of her astute observation,
I filched a playful kiss from Azazeel.
Whats his personal life like?
Single, never married,
not even common-law,
no children.
Personal wealth?
Untold millions, by all accounts.
Secret untraceable offshore tax-haven accounts.
Weaknesses?
Likes fast cars,
easy women,
and pricey booze.
A coward.
Recommendation?
The world is a better place
without him. The sooner

the better, Id say.

A weekend
fatal car accident
on his way
from his bank
to his mistress.
Subsequent to our
mental perambulations,
the twisted, burnt-out
wreckage of his Porshe
was determined to be a
high-speed mishap
fortunately involving
no other casualties.
His remains
could only be identified
by the small, charred, 24-caret-gold
Horn of Plenty
still hanging around his neck.
However, no one could explain away the
two different types of human
teeth marks on his femur bones.