*For John W. Karr*
…246 New Jersey…
An old man took his last breath today.
When asked to chose between
a doctor’s breathing tube
A friend’s perfectly crafted martini,
He made the right choice.
…246… 246… 246…
“2+4 is 6”
I would have never thought of that.
Never have been a fan of numbers;
They don’t hold memories like words
3 doesn’t fit like trio or menage,
1 only lingers awkwardly wanting to be added to another,
I’ve always loved words
But this is an equation I can follow home.
…2+4 is 6 New Jersey…
The house is full of art and memories;
Peanut sauce and martinis;
A feast of seasons
For seasoned lawyers and career criminals alike.
Jazz and wine are constants
Helping keep the bound books company.
Mixed into wilting envelopes;
Closed cases and new bills;
A clipping from the metro section
“He was always fond of you Dwayne.”
God as a master mathematician,
Speaking a language I may never fully understand;
Only glimpses of the design
In digestible blocks
To help move the memories along.
2+4 is 6…
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