Garçon, Goodbye

June 28, 2015

A microscopic riot in the rug—
as creatures so hideous they remind us
of dinosaurs beneath the twisted fabric
battle the battle of their lives.
There is intense silence.
Charles Garçon waits on the floor, alone.
Pretend to be nothing, he thinks, not even a song.
Yet the notes he makes are meant to be sung.
And so he sings, cannot help but sing.

He has no voice—no vice, I mean—
but no one cares. He is not good nor well.
But when he sings, his rug becomes a grave.
The monsters all float away.
It seems no one cares, or cares to stay.
The tiny dinosaurs are dead.
It is as if a meteor has hit the earth—again.
A yellow cloud springs from the Yucatan—again.
The earth grows cold—again.

Goodbye Garçon, goodbye.
You were once the apple of my eye.
Charley, I have no more to say to you.
Perhaps I was never sorry.
Perhaps I was never blue.
Garçon, goodbye.

2 Responses to “Garçon, Goodbye”

  1. extrasimile Says:

    John–i’m glad you hear the music because it was very much intended and i don’t know if it is hear-able or not. And yes, worry about Charles–unless you seehim as the personification of worry itself and then…
    why, say goodbye–
    which is after all a contraction of ‘god be with you’.

  2. John Looker Says:

    As so often there’s a quality of mystery in your lines Jim, and this poem is particularly expressive — it feels sad, almost regretful. It’s also very musical which I like. I’m a bit worried about poor Charles Garçon though — I hope someone’s looking out for him.

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