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