Persol sunglasses placed, so much as pained upon, flicked a little for these beautifully resolute eyes to finally breathe – extra effect
Special effects, like he liked it just
His one and only son – Chad – presses a sweat-ridden palm against the wooden wedge
Forever dropped, sadly, quite agonisingly between
Dressed to impress this gladragged click who carry love in fastidious tow, narrowed-out eyes piercing of their own lonely accord right now, a hundred rows deep
Genius relinquished
Not a word to be heard, rather strange for its peculiar and uncommon worth alone
Hurt held together by these roaming memories of his – a million miles an hour on up inside, where true power does tend to lie
His body is cold, don’t suppose this is exactly what the Hollywood hotshots meant by ‘Cool Hand Luke’
Lacklustre posthumous jokes devotedly cracked and poked fun at the son they never had, par for the conclusive march on out of here
And a church grabs its coquettish breath, a thousand – and – one equally, albeit far more momentarily frozen bodies lurch in his suddenly prepped direction
The roof comes down to the eerie sounds of violent silence
And an unknowing son starts to cry on about-to-be forever rewind
Copyright © 2023 poetart. All rights reserved.