Dead Grandpa is
considering rebirth.
A china pig or
Cleopatra’s nose
would do, but all
his latest friends are here
and do not want to
look like nematodes
in search of a
savant, nor weeds and rocks.
He had a date
tonight. If she would be
a pagan suckled in
Tibetan hills,
maybe he’d go for
gold. Or porphyry.
A statue of a statue
in the rain,
at least until he’d
smartened up a bit.
