we miss you,jack—tactfully you(with one cocked
eyebrow)subtracting clichés un by un
till the god’s truth stands art-naked:you and the fact
that rotgut never was brewed which could knock you down
(while scotch was your breakfast every night all day)
a 3ringbrain you had and a circusheart
and we miss them more than any bright word may cry
—even the crackling spark of(hung in a)“‘fert
ig”
(tent-sky wholly wallendas)
ready were all
erect your yous to cross the chasm of time
lessness;but two dim disks of stare are still
wondering if the stunt was really a dream—
here’s, wherever you aren’t or are,good luck!
aberdeen plato-rabelais peter jack