A POEM OF REMEMBRANCE
FOR RON COHN


Ron
I still remember
Your peculiar order
Your strange wish
Your tenebrous words

Your wantonness for
Something impossible
That lacerating message
Offensive movements
From your lips

I still recall
Your command:

“I want this place
Spotless like
A Cathedral”

I am sorry Ron
Your store
Is not a place
Of venerations
Your market
Worships the
Love of money

It’s going to take
More than
Illuminating rows
Of 1’s
(I am flattered)
To see better

It’s going to take
More than
Nickels and dimes
To repair the damage

Your place
Yes it’s dirty
With the blood
Of dead meat
And the stench
Of rotting fish

And I will continue
Cleaning it
Till it becomes
Spotless like
An Operating Room