"They found him some days later... some years dead"

Transcendental Sonnet #996:
Mr. S. and I in 1968

I used to pick up bricks and scraps of wood
Brought them all home on the back of my bike
Riding far outside of my neighborhood
Heavy things pieces of steel and the like
Balanced on a special rack on the back

Once I turned a corner too fast and fell
Landing with my treasures in the gutter
A broken man whose life had gone to hell
Rescued me junk and all his Cadillac
Bore it all on leather soft as butter

I saw him as both powerful and kind
That night he put a bullet through his head
For he had lost his power and his mind
They found him some days later... some years dead



from +Steven Curtis Lance / Collected Poems, Copyright MMIV