"Greg is dead," is what he said
and that’s when it hit home.

When it became a reality.
When I first heard of Greg
and his leaving.
The card read RIP
which doesn’t usually stand for
Roamin’ in Paris
or Regrettably into Prog
or Renting ice (in) Purgatory,
though that’s kinda close to the meaning.

Greg’s gone, is what we heard
and he’s probably been gone for a while.
The card…
the giant card he saw on the street…
abandoned…
awaiting pickup for demolishment…
had likely been kept for a time
until it hurt too much to be held
any longer.

It was a fetish
that finally saw its time as fleeting
and was bid farewell.

That is where he saw the card
and told us of its tale.

We caught the end
of a long story
but that is no reason
not to extend it
not to offer Greg
a further life
in our memory
for as long as we can.