The world would not be so mad rotund and cool
without my friend to love and laugh aloud
The galaxy of course would not notice (it’s a fool)
too full of pride to know it is too proud

Alas, the unicorns will fart for him and then
the faeries, belching in unison, will call
for each a friend as wondrous as him. Again,
without’m the world wouldn’t be mad rotund at all.

I remind each of you of that night you never knew,
a pint slammed back with gusto in a room, dark
and ready for chicanery. Now, understand, you
will miss the grins intentioned or not in that lark

perpetrated by my friend’s eld, nascent palsy’s spread
from bone to bone, flesh to flesh, and still — he’s not quite dead.