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Mark Jarman
Elegy for Fame

Of course, it was unfair, your dying,
Before you could grow old and die.
You caught the world dissembling, lying,
And meant to teach it not to lie
And teach it truth was greater art
The more a critic reads and squirms.
You should’ve been allowed to part
With all of us on your own terms,
Before the world was digitized,
No paper left to crease and smudge
With anger’s trembling human touch.
Your anger had to hold its grudge
And never counted half so much.
Was it vindictive or forgiving
That all the rest of us kept living?

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