Noah Noah died an alcoholic death After years of drinking red wine Like one of those bearded patriarchs Of the Central Valley Who used to sit at the head of the table, Tilting the green bottle Towards a faceted water glass, Red crust at the corners of their mouths, Holding forth about why You can't trust the banks. Passed out naked one night, His sons crept into the room backwards So as not to have to see all that And covered their father with a sheet, Whereupon he woke up cursing. He’d been a good writer once. Wrote something called
Aww such lovely poem