This verse is the final product
of your automatic elegy kettle,
read by a gramophonic mouse
as six hearse-tricycles wheel
you to the musical incinerator.
Rest in peace, and axle grease.
All the people celebrated in these Otwituaries have, in some way or other, had an effect on me, positive or otherwise...
This verse is the final product
Y tu hwnt i dogma mae argyhoeddiad a
The astronaut’s bleakest curse yet
The king of misdirection cuts
From new thought, new process.
You made life so glamorous;