Author Information
R.I.P Emmanuel and Optimism
Once again
Another bites the dust.
Our chauffeur,
A father, a friend.
Being of the same age,
I’m inclined to say,
He was the next
Erik.
They drop like flies
In this part of the cosmos.
Like barely looked at numbers
From the corner of an accountant’s eyes,
The ledger is quickly ironed out.
Smooth sailing
For smooth sailors;
He vanishes
In the sea.
His orbit quickly lost gravity.
Friends, family, enemies…
Long forgotten in the flash
Of a CNN newscast.
“He was sick”
It was expected.
At age twenty-four?
Once again
The dust bites me.
A Nazgul,
A father, an acquaintance.
Being of a useless age,
I’m inclined to say,
I’ll be the next
John Doe
They stew like rabbits
In this part of the ghetto.
Like carefully scrutinized symbols
Floating on the stock market,
Memories join the ranks
Of chaos theory.
Chaotic impulse
I vanish;
Insignificant.
My orbit quickly gains gravity.
Me, myself and I…
Always remembered
Through egocentricity.
“He was sick”
It was expected.
At age thirty-three?
