He had a funny kind of walk, I always thought. He sort of bobbed up and down as he stepped. He wasn’t gay or anything except himself.
He was very intelligent and hard to approach, And seemed intent and would rise and fall as he went As if he was being very careful.
It was as if he thought The world on which he walked was strewn With eggshells, thorns, and land mines.
I had the impression That if he was aware of it at all, He was very amused by the whole preposterous thing.
This week I heard from friends of friends That stomach cancer took him out at 63— I wonder if that was preposterous, too?
rcs. Created on 12/14/2009 4:45 PM
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Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! (At least put on your socks and pants.)