Lethe Poem by Rhys Owens

Brother, silent one always dancing,
Sending the blonde girls into hysteria,
You chase that color right out of the rainbow.
And, boy, were the noons ever warm.

What is your harp doing now? Is it
Rusting, shoveling the dust hoveled in the big-spenders
Electronic bay, wisped away by this Mechanized America.

Your funny dreams, that old country.
Is Leonard still playing cards with Satan?
I never died, I never died, ―my madness.

I've seen many shores.
All I know is, I know nothing.
You know that's my creed, brother?
Or, maybe, the time has come the Walrus said.

I cannot imagine that you were ever unhappy.
But we are clowns, brother.
And I still am.
I've never died.