THERE WAS A MURDER

On a night where I was supposed to give
a poetry reading
there was a murder
of a women who everyone knew
I was with her in New York City
where she used to sing in clubs
She was no candle in the wind
She was the eye of the storm

Only two people came to the poetry reading
and even they were in a funk
the ancient themes
of the cruelty of mankind
suddenly past anything that was even so
post-modern
My rhythms were off
My focus was off
Catie, O Catie
if you only knew how much you were loved

We shared the same stage many times
We sang Leonard Cohen songs together
We were very much a part
of our lady of the harbour
Whoever did this to you
may they rot in hell
May they lay down with me
in Potters Field
Anonymous and damned
Waiting for each path of light
that might seep through our wood work


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