Paul. Dead.
Not the one of rumored deaths and mystical gossip, but
the hard-boiled egg-eating champeen
who yelled at god (don't we all in our own way?),
"Love me, hate me, kill me, anything. Just let me know it."
Like lieutenant day-un
screaming from the crow's nest in an atheist-eliminating sea squall
"You call this a storm?"
But you gotta know movies
And love a character cuts off parking meter heads
sings plastic jesus pickin' the banjer
calls his mom byes her first name
A true beat character
Oh but there is too much to tell
about just one role, one move-ie
Let alone one LIFE.
I'll be watching you and Dragline soon
And likely cry for doing so
