Well here it is Friday Evening again
March the 15th, 2013
After the big day.
Ghosts’ voices rescued from a quiet white house on Swanton Avenue
with lion gargoyles on the front patio.
Ed, you’re 24 years young.
A move West, 3 kids, and a grandfatherly red sweater lay ahead of you.
Would you want to know that?
That baby you held in 1991 has your name.
It’s his middle name, but some of us think middle names are pretty cool.
He’ll rap about guns and girls and gods
He’ll record it, maybe on a microphone not so different from yours
You recorded Broncos games on video cassettes.
the 80’s anguish is well documented.
The denver broncos, always a bridesmaid, never a bride
—- (but hey, they win in 98. And again in 99. would you want to know?)
Documenting was your thing.
Stacks of labeled VHS’s of cartoons and elway’s comebacks
in an oaken cabinet
Tape rolls of successful business transactions
Slides of rocky mountain sunsets
Here you are documenting a $100 check, the Night before the Big Day
I wish you would say more, YES YOU NEED SAY MORE
Who are you?
You did something with insurance
You liked sports and beer and cigarettes and
you documented around you, but never Ed Shriver
When you were on your dying bed, you asked to see me.
And I said no, because I thought you were angry with me.
Wanting to point your fingers between my 3 year old eyes
three year olds don’t understand what 24 year olds do.
I was hoping you would re-q-perate I guess
You must know we Shrivers were never much good with with…
i too will close this little thing