Elliott

Written November 2003

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all the pretty sadness that you painted on your canvas
could not stop the flood that washed away the good luck,
every dark distraction holds the usual attraction:
to be numb enough; did you give up? when
+++ that was now but this is then,
+++ we’re back to “here we go again” and
+++ I can let your records spin,
+++ but not the one that isn’t done yet…

Julian of Norwich said the world is just a walnut
in the hands of God, that’s what she thought about it,
Elliott, the bittersweetness, all the incompleteness
that you saw too well, was that you’re hell? now,
+++++ do you look down on us? did you think you’d haunt us?
+++++ does it all seem different, now that you’re beyond us?
+++++ stumble into heaven, it’s just the way you left it,
+++ that was now but this is then,
+++ we’re back to “here we go again” and
+++ I can let your records spin,
+++ but not the one that isn’t done yet…

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