Monday, September 27

Mourner

When the new book arrived, he threw
the old book away. He made common

cause with known saxophonists, shabby
worn-out things unworthy of our notice.

Remarks containing acid he poured on
each and every, circulating among the

assembled mourners, whispering,
"What a pity!" and "Such a shame

he had to die so young, before his song
had ended." He used to say one learned

from one's mistakes, but he really knew
better. It's his turn now, I hesitate to say.


--Halvard Johnson

No comments: