EPITAPH FOR A GENTLEMAN FARMER

EPITAPH FOR A GENTLEMAN FARMER 

And if you are not yet dead physically  

what of it? Long have I fancied your dying.  

Long have I waited my turn in the long line 
to stab you, in return, in the back. 

You have insulted the muses enough.  

At their command I graffiti your headstone  

in advance & hereby place  

your living corpse into the stocks: 

“Here lieth one who made a handsome 

living out of other people’s work, 

who toured the planet on expenses 

using others’ reputations as his passport, 

who had no eloquence but imitation, 

who sang like a wind-up bird for the Court, 

who used up all his gifts gombeening 

& left not one syllable of worth.” 

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EPITAPH FOR A GENTLEMAN FARMER is from my collection Medium