April 18, 2020

The Dead Man and Me

just arrived via groaning dirty train a dollar in my pocket
cool october saturday afternoon peculiar off-kilter shadows 
then again, funerals are peculiar events
a sun-drenched beautiful day for a funeral I must say
funeral for an old friend--not many there to say goodbye
a girlfriend I don’t recognize, two people who might be related ???
birds singing jaunty tunes cheerfully they don’t know the occasion
appropriately dead leaves blowing around, mournful chilly breeze through the barren trees
with branches that look like old kerplunk sticks
I lean against a tired old oak and think of days gone by
we hadn’t seen much of each other lately-- I mean me and the dead man
priest blithering on about something or other
I can’t hear him because I’m not listening 
death came so sudden as it often does
sometimes senseless sometimes stupid sometimes just because 
catch an apropos black ride back into old town
clueless driver asks how I’m doing-- “fine” I say
while I think you idiot, you just picked me up outside a cemetery 
I let it pass, he’s being polite I guess
pass tombstones headstones rolling stones crosses angels mausoleums 
stopped for a few-- and a few more drinks afterwards
hotel bar of jaded greens and muted mauves 
happy-go-lucky bartender tone deaf to me and my depths
I don’t care who the third string quarterback will be for old state u. this year
hobblewobble up to the room and contemplate my own demise
if they don’t play some good music at my funeral, I’m not going BWAHHAHAHA!

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