Famous Last Words

Eliot whispered Valerie.

Dylan mocked the mystery:

I've just had eighteen whiskies straight.

But Thoreau saw clear in his dire state.

He said Moose. Indian.

Moose. Indian.

It's a long time since I drank champagne,

Said Chekov circling his drain.

Silence harried Ezra Pound,

But Dickens uttered On the ground.

Goodnight, my KittenHemingway

When The Boss shot out his lights that day.

Why do we live? Rimbaud made note,

Send me the news. And that's all she wrote.

 

Moose. Indian.

Moose. Indian.

O. Henry lay cold knees to head.

His feet are warm he can't be dead.

No one goes out with feet on fire.

Joan of Arc did, O. said, then expired.

Like John the One-Eyed Human Drum

Succumbed to plague ere the win had come,

Make my hide, my feet, and paws

Drum heads for the Bohemian cause.

And say, Moose. Indian.

Moose. Indian.