The Ghost Of Frank Zappa - Poem by Richard George
He is on the Northern Line
between Edgware and Euston.
Just him and me, in the carriage.
His stare irradiates me.
I wasn't there for Liam.
Now there was a fan of yours.
He took all that trouble
to make me lunch, and I stood him up.
He doesn't pass sentence.
He gets off at Chalk Farm
with the faintest smile
in his obsidian eyes:
'You still need a ticket'.
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