The headline read
Rock and Roller Dies of Old Age
We must get used to it.
They, like us, move on
We had the days of suicide
Soon the doors of rest will open
and the polite figures
will wheel us all in
There will be schedules
There will be regularity
heads dipping into games and schemes
never enacted again.
And I will make all my stories about breaking things.
They can make all their stories about sex.
Others can make their stories about greatness very nearly reached
While still more will sink into the oblivion and isolation of silence
I hope they let the light in sometimes
and I hope the girls will be pretty
Something to look at
something to taste
and a nice voice in my ear
And there will be no more headlines
but only mentions of
“Did you know that-?”
and politely shocked replies
Only for a day or two
since time eases away the significance of all things
even us to us.