Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Paul Irving Precedes Me

Paul Irving Precedes Me

Life is one grand procession someone has
no doubt noted, a parade, the Second
Line, brass and mourners weave winding streets, wails

drowned out by grace notes and wild whoops of joy,
an appealing image, though truth be told
I prefer metaphor with a bit less

pizazz, something a little more buttoned
down, the protocol clear.  As I make my
way I wish to be preceded by Paul

Irving, a stern, eagle beaked fellow, the
new House-Sergeant-At-Arms, a man given
to regular habits, a guy who knows

exactly where we’re headed and how we
will get there.  Paul can be relied on to
part the waters ahead, the flood of well-

wishers with which I have to contend each
and every day, dragging me by my
lapels, bald head pivoting, eyes steely,

scanning the room for trouble, alert to
roadblocks, anyone bent on delay, keen
to deliver me to my last address. 

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