Epitaph
- Epitaph
You done blown this taco stand sky high, AMF
under earth, an oath. Caught the first thing
smoking. PARA MORIR. Gone with summer-
time & the living is easy. High
cotton. You weevil why’d you
weave us? Stitch yourself back like a spider
or under- taker— give up the car
service that waits & waits while you paint—it’s too
much—will drive you to your grave. DEC 1960 [End Page 297]
AUG 1988— your date kept, no chance
to grow fat & useless—no names please—
GREENWOOD. You stay thin & dead, a language—
maggot: n. 2. an extravagantnotion, whim—ants
for angels, eyes—
Kevin Young, who was a Stegner Fellow at Stanford University, is author of Most Way Home, a volume of poems. He teaches creative writing and literature at the University of Georgia, Athens. A graduate of Harvard, he recently received the MFA degree at Brown University.
