The Continuance

Oh, when I die, burn my body and spread me ash over soft, green, silvan glade. And every-time you hear a cloud or see a lark, think of Plato, Goethe and me.
Actually, this is one of my first poems. And even stranger still (well to most of us non-neurologists) -- one of the few that I can actually recite "upon demand". Steve Allen (the great humorist/entertainer) could never recall his writings. He wrote many songs, and composed much great Jazz. (it is no small tribute that "the simpsons" pays homage to him) Well, that's about all there is to me. Oh, yeah. Death? It's just this thing you know. Sort of like having gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe. Tiresome at the time, but then later on, you realize that it too has faded from sight. -- Pizo. Back to the POETRY page To the MUSE's poetry page Back to the MAC page

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