poem

Hey, Jude the Obscure

That sad song, from years

back? Hey,

Jude couldn't make it

better.

Never even tried,

wildly

distracted by the

claim one

could leave his lover

in one

of fifty ways. An

hour

of library time

confirmed

there were fewer than

twenty,

probably something

closer

to six. In his search

of the

records he was floored

to find

that everybody

need not

get stoned, but sat on

the news

until last April.

He did

something in between,

besides

driving cars for some

nameless

star, credited now

as the

guy who put all the

nahs in

Hey Jude and the Night

They Drove

Old Dixie Down, by

my count

fifty nahs or more.