The passing of Inchiki
Crowd crowd crowd
My mental tapestry
With stitched faces
Loose threads come
From the eye, the tooth
The door, the wardrobe
Wherever we start
Each when pulled it
Unravels the world
Carelessly into string
Inchiki was not of this world. He came from some other place
where delicate creatures thrive.
Forever youthful, he did not marry like I married.
I wish I had known him better, before he died.
He liked to dress in drag, or walk naked in parks.
His laughter was a bit unhinged, like a butterfly dancing on
a leaf.
We were all there at the funeral, PreciousNing, the two
Alex’s, the Owl, the Wanderer, Yellow Vincent, Spinal, his family and other
friends, and a few who seemed like urban bohemian Bums.
His oldest friend Mr Swann threw some red roses on the
coffin and we carried it out to the cemetery.
There was a bird twittering in a tree and it made me think
of Inchiki, forever young.
His voice will not be silent though he is dead. He is not
like others of us who breathe air.
RIP Inchiki.
{Alaric Jones}
