when a man dies;
when a true man
dies
the realest gospel is
writ by his own immortal
hand.
there needs now be
a book of
tee.
we read from his
scripture:
“sacre bleu! the extra
ordinary green dog is
again mounting the
sewing machine!”
we sing a hymn:
“boy,
bring me my big
fish!”
or meditate on a
homily:
“the hyena
smirks.”
trumpets resound.
clouds divide.
topless valkyries
descend to the
bier of the
hero.
“he returns no
money.”
exeunt omnia.
laughing
fur-ever-more.