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Comments about Scott Goodfellow
You were a vagabond Camel stick
exiled from every class, office, and bar.
Enslaved to burn at your master's will,
you were tossed upon the spitted cement,
flicked worthlessly and your flame stomped out.
Your body is graveless. O where is your soul?
It lingers briefly as smoke int he air
before dissipating to nothingness.
Your spirit is engraved on your master's lungs,
but in his many slaves, you are unknown.
Yet when your life is lit, you are his jewel,
O butt, upon your master's sullied lips.
Your brevity is your virtuosity,
his cancer, your ...