Creative Poetry

Jimmy Wolpert | In Memorium

On a nowhere road in Arkansas
a road sign for Egypt
flooded me with memories
of step ladders and pyramid schemes.
Late nights spent under stage lights;
selling our sorrows to regretful ears.
Bombing was an art form
none of us did gracefully
except you.
You could take a hollow room
and shape company from our misery.
Howling from the back
all of your biggest fans
taking pause to witness your brilliance.
I never expected your jokes to live on in your place.
When did one-liners become relics
occupying shelves
in the corner of my mind
to be retrieved while driving
on nowhere roads
wishing I was anywhere with you.



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