Eulogy for James Dean

Is it cold there now?
Well, it shouldn't be
you heated the road
and burned rubber
and now
the world
is redolent
of tire
yellow fire
a star for hire
swooshing
down and out
they didn't see you
step out
come out
walk out
of that crash
footprints pointing
back to eden
where fathers
raise fathers
and sons linger on
and children
revel
in the dark
and spark
stark naked
in a spotlight
without spite
A sprite
flaming white,
you were always warm alright.