From the top

At the initial hospital

the angel of odds-making came unto me foretelling:

"Even money:

 Jackie will pick-up on Marilyn's scent."

Later, I'd place my bet as to whether or not

my father drank on the side

the side of the road

on the road to his house.

Meanwhile, the angel of death

has yet to appear at the foot of my bed,

and anyway, my preference

has never been to stay put. 

Outside, the atmosphere

has wiped-out just about everything else.