Saturday, August 9, 2008

An Elegy


So Son,

so make myself drunk again
and think of him
in that chair
for hours
tv sedative sedating

drip drip drip

lulling the last vestiges of a life
to sleep, to sleep
sounding a lullaby that sings:

so son,
take this torch and set a fire
upon the moon
that hangs just so, son,
dull cold and dead
in a setting sky
behind a rising sun


so make the old man a drink of gin
and think of him
in that chair
for now
tv hearth heart's

beat beat beat

lulling the last vestiges of a life
to keep, to keep
sounding an elegy this son now sings

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