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Brother, why die, why not walk around,
why not live instead? Just breathe, the force of it
will stand you up, will put you here and there,
but you insist, There's something after this. Think!
God invents heaven and you, my brother, will find a way in,
yet now when prayer escapes your lips and rises
to that holy name, what do you hear back?
Don't die, take a chance, have another look around, stay
and lead us into Jack's Bar to celebrate victory over deaf bosses
or fly again over the ring in Madison Square Garden
where you dropped kisses on Roberto Duran
before he knocked out Ken Buchanan with a knee to the groin
and lost the small amount of grace accorded him.
Quick! Get out of bed! America is throwing out your loves-
unions, fair pay, the created equal and happiness things—
replacing them with rapacious greed disguised as freedom.
Men need men like you, so stay away at your peril,
you're wanted upfront in the vast parade. Please
do not die now. Listen to me! Autumn is pulling
the world apart, honey bees are dying, the sun disappears
into the shadows only to return, everything gives;
it's a visible harvest on urban streets now paved with gold
and red, and above a jet plane's white exhaust
has left a crack in the Ming blue sky. I want you to see it,
I want you to see there's nowhere to go but here, so put
on your patent leather shoes and let's go back, let's go dancing,
handsome and young in our wide-
striding inside the blast with all of our victories and our loves before us.
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