letra de elgin miller - thinking fellers union local 282
i found in a letter from my mother that not much had
changed. but there was something there, something she
said twice – “elgin miller died from poisoned
lemonade.” “elgin miller is dead.”
memories of elgin miller drifted by. my father’s voice
at the window – “elgin. driving by.”
i remember the way it can be there – the rigid days and
the rubber nights.
i can picture the wake so soft-lit, the corpse’s face
aglow.
in the light from his remains to his remainders – maybe
he is there, not so heavy or readily defined
i wonder if anyone is frightened by the thought of
elgin miller in the mystery of the other side.
some wonder if he’s formless – can he read their minds?
some may wish him in h-ll
the mystery of my mother’s repet-tions, the lines
between the lines – were they peaks above the sea or
were they peeks at the way the hours push the corpse of
everyone, of everyday, of every godd-mn thing?
the mystery of elgin miller – was it suicide? if it’s
so, i wouldn’t be surprised.
august’s breath, moist and heavy, aging frame
lemonade – now that sounds fine
for a little while
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