Poem by James Krusoe

I still know very little about James Krusoe and he’s still a fantastic poet. This one is just gorgeous:

for Barry Brennan

Tender is the night my friend
and now you’ve made it there
to rest beneath the leafy elm

we know as “death” and scope
the scenery of dark ravines
and towering peaks each filled

with all those serious slow
guys you used to fall for in this
life who looked as if they

specialized in “Profound Thoughts
101” or “Grief” and stood around
on bridges staring far away into

a distance which back then you
couldn’t see but where today
you live — at last a member

of that club you used to mourn
you’d never be a part of — being
as you were — too funny and too quick


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