Editorial Day

03 Dec


Editorial Day


Where’s Chekhov?

Where’s the champagne that death brings?

Does it matter?

We are already casting the funeral scene.

Welcome, actors.

Welcome, spectators.

Welcome, also, the bereaved.

Let’s commence with the procession.

We move along the gray rain of winter,

hidden by our windows,

hidden by the word “alone”.

I sit here recycling lines from my book,

as always – unfinished,

and am, again, reminded of you –

because where else would you have me look?

Still, so sweet,

to read

to be read –

my last thread,

my last bed.

We have a litany to sing;

a love song to put it all away.

I’m just remembering the words now.

Welcome back

I know you didn’t find him


Does it matter?

We are already in post-production.  

Soon that little life of ours will be done:

Another comedy without a wedding,

Another tragedy without heroes.


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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings

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