Perchik
written by: Carson Pytell
Whose nose is too bulbous
for the front pages he’s earned,
and verse too dense for this,
an airy world, is puttering
past seventy years of living
between slapdash covers
and in the artist hearts
of numberless readers of
the highs and lows
he graces and graces us with.
Insofar as immortality
is concerned, he sits and
pals with his pens still,
equally unmoved by it
as it has already been
moved by him.
He is a breathing
succès d’estime,
residing in those
crepuscular corners
of this life’s narrow days.
Indeed he will outlive himself,
regardless he’s already lived far too long.