Anthony Bourdain 1956 - 2018 Poem by James McLain

What did he see that we have all missed?
The liquor he drank or the food that he ate and his moods!
Eloquently were the words being the wordsmith he was, verbal
His pictures of you in his head.
Empathy for you and you and I some he would meet, no heart
They are dead, non-empathic without a soul, knowing at first glance,
Still he would say.
Beautiful people, beautiful day's, beautiful countries, places we'd stay.
Due to our very short life spans that
Govern the wisdom and accumulated knowledge all that we learn,
No matter now how hard that we try we no one person can learn it all.
How many beats a seat at a bar,
Counting the seats each beat of one's heart one can't know, the knowledge
Of our death can never be known.
Such knowledge of this would change everything the few the pure would say
No to this, he would like.
On a Seattle bathroom wall I read,
When having grown older than youth and having survived, I now realize,
after reaching the penticle of success there is no up anymore there's only
Paying your karmatic bill and then checking out.