Roz Kaveney (rozk) wrote,
Roz Kaveney
rozk

This isn't adequate, but...

FOR TERRY PRATCHETT

We come to Skull at last. And Skull's a smile.
Rewarmed next day, each tragedy's a farce.
Kings fall, we all fall down. Prat-fall. On arse.
Perfectly timed. Poised, elegant. With style.

Rude noise. Best laughter comes from quiet rage
channeled and weaponized. Always about
something beyond the joke. He didn't shout
wry quiet almost whisper. Rueful sage.

Some things are never funny. In each book
reduced their number. With a jest would name
each foolish monster, when those monsters came
from life and dream. Crush with a knowing look.

His comic timing still his last best friend
Prepared it earlier. Told us. The End.
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  • 11 comments

  • Had to be a London poem

    LONDON Night in a city that has licked its wounds Two thousand years. And curls around its kits Feeding and grooming heroes cowards wits Lovers and…

  • What it says

    ON LIGHT Sentience basks where crystals just reflect. Blind kittens stretch and mew into the sun Soft pressure on their skin. There's straight lines…

  • A poem sort of about science

    LORENZO ON LANIAKEIA A feather or a skeleton of leaf A spiderweb that blows in breeze when torn Out on the edge of nothing we are born Blue void's…