POEM FOR TOM
it’s one helluva
gradient
from
alphabet blocks
to
drowning Prufrock
that sledge hurtling
downward
through the poem.
at the beginning of your
most epochal
poem
but do not
forget the cats, must not
ever ever ever
forget
the cats, little Sasha
meows
for when
you are out in death deserts
wondering what it
was you
missed that
the thunder said
and someone ghostly, incredible,
always walking
beside you
little Sasha is there
bouncing along
avatar of life, beside
you too
though
perhaps
in my world of high
and deep
inspired by you
I haven’t seen her yet
poems 2 die for 