POEM FOR A POET
GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN

the mind silent like a whisper
in the still of night

you stiff as a mannequin

laid out in hospital gown

eyes fixed to ceiling

silent poems spin in  your head

weave present into past

until you’re back on the docks

lifting crates with hooks and beefy hands

waiting to clock out

hit Gino and Carlo’s Bar

with other white cap longshoremen

young women eyed your masculinity

devoured your loins

your head buried between

nectar sweet limbs

now laying in solitude

fluids not whiskey

race through your veins

nurses pass your room

pay no notice

tubes in your nose

labored breath
this is the way of life

the angel of death

no angel at all

but a minion from hell

growing old was not supposed

to be like this

dreams reduced to confetti

fall slowly to the ground

stepped on or around

death waits like a sadist

plays your mind like a card shark

your breathing ragged

as a rat’s claws

the hour’s pass

at horse and buggy speed

the bones bleed

death a faceless mugger

does a two-step shuffle
like a gypsy woman selling her wares

in the shadows of the tattooed dawn