Just wanted to share this poem with you, as it gave my
spirits quite a lift. The author is Katherine McAlpine, from her chapbook PAST & PRESENT (Scienter Press):
EPITAPH FOR AN UNFASHIONABLE POET
Future biographers take note: His life
won't make any best seller lists. One wife
was all he had. He never (to our knowledge)
liked to sneak out with leather boys or college
girls. He kept his private life quite private,
was generous with friends, did not arrive at
poetry readings plastered and unkempt.
He never made a suicide attempt
or suffered bouts of existential pain.
His rhymes were funny, sly, and fiercely sane
--which won small recognition, no awards,
lush grants, or honorary mortarboards.
Yet he continued, cheerful, undeterred,
to skewer sacred cows and scare the herd.
So let's hear no regrets on his behalf.
In heaven he's still having the last laugh.
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