“Eulogies are best written while drinking, lest one resort to an epistolary. Nevertheless…
Denis, look man, there’s some serious shit I need to discuss with you…
Curse, Bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray,
D, remember back when you were my facilitator to the human race? Remember the time when you and I wound up in Halifax wrapped up in the back of a convertible with Miss Halifax on one side and Miss first and second runner up on the other?
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Or the time the chief of police was in the dressing room trying to make small talk about how he was looking for a good “family show” and you were laying this perfect Received Pronunciation on the guy while passing me a card with someone’s…
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
Do you remember my house? I remember yours. Leave them. Leave them.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Or when I had been locked out and you let me sleep in your car. Nice touch, that. Just the right mixture of just desserts and….just desserts.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Or when we were jammed on these dime-sized stages in these so-called showcase bars – shitholes all – with a shit ton of par cans six inches behind our heads, backs, asses, ankles. Foraging for anything green to eat in the toolies that might contain some Vitamin C became a ritual.
D! Pass that jug, bruh. Thirsty here.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Look man, there’s some serious shit I need to discuss with you…
Keep moving. Don’t linger.
Look man, there’s some shit I need to discuss with you…
Don’t look back.
Italics indicate excerpts from Do not go gentle into that good night © Dylan Thomas 1947. Read as part of the eulogy given.