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Joe
by david   May 31, 2005
joe, joseph, nett

The original poem was much longer, but simply was not very good. Not at all. I wrote it on the plane, on the way back from Grandpa's funeral, and fought with it from that day until this morning, when the real poem came. I meant it to be done before Memorial Day, but it came one day too late. It's not brilliant, but it's better than the original one. I hope Grandpa would've liked it. Even if he didn't, he'd have lied and said he did.

 

    Joe

    after grandpa's hearing had mostly gone,

    we attended a play starring my brother.

    later, I commented on

    his near-constant, red-faced teary laughter.

    he said:

    I couldn't hear what they were saying,

    but everybody sure seemed to be having

    a good time.


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