Read Me, Reaper! (Unpub)

Read me, Reaper, what's ahead
"...in the buttons, in the bread..."
Wasted weekends at Club Med…?
(Boss: “You loss of pay must dread.”)
     O Death: you've done in Uncle Ed.
You've closed the lid on Cousin Fred.
You've shrouded Mrs. Gotobed.
(I can't drive Dilys from my head.)
 
Feed me, Reaper, as foresaid --
from "...ultravi- to infrared..." --
who've laid to rest Great-grandpa Jed, 
the King of Kenya, known as "Khed" 
(‘tis said Khed's worth his weight in lead)
who never left the Murphy bed
he lay on as a newlywed. Khed 
died as lived he: overfed.) 

Speed me, Reaper: please to shed
your ploy to "...’stroy my ‘oysterbed’"
with Inja ink (no pencil lead...?) 
injected by some quadruped
or biped (a Rhode Island Red…?) 
incorporating Sudafed
black-marketed through Cousin Ted…?
 
Heed me! Como ‘sta Usted…?
What shade’s your thread…? Venetian red…?
Are color’d threads like yours widespread…?
Do X-mark’d spots show where they’ve bled…?
I’d love to hear what all’s been said,
but hear it I'd from you instead...
so: read me, Reaper, talking head,
from top to toe, from A to Zed!