Robin C. Pinkman- A Poem

  Upon the Death of BB King

  

 The street doesn't give a single inch

 the long sustain is diminished and

 depletes itself of necessity with the

 old woman who lives all over the

 place around here  she finally stops

 moaning when the sun comes up,

 or the cops come around  she has no

 idea what she's growling at, but i

 do, and so don't mind if she goes on

 for as long as i live around here

 but the morning doesn't give a  

 single inch, as the spring time  

 sticks out all over, and never even

 learns to smile big  and strum  and

 pass out picks to children, and well

 wishers in cities and towns  and has

 to twist and fill the early distance

 with monuments to accident and

 utility over rivers  the die is cast it

 might say  and nothing to be done.

                         Portland 5/15/15