“Epitaph” (For Jerry Springer)

 

c. 2023 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(4-23)

 

How lonely the morning seems

After a night of cosmic showers and moonbeams

I woke to the news of a felled tree in my favorite woods

A diversion I once needed in this rural neighborhood

He was educated in the classics and able to manage wealth

More gifted and promising than myself

Once even an aide to RFK, I read in part

With career shifts that reflected a restless heart

A mayor, and broadcaster

A news maven, and bombast purveyor

Always the sane voice in a circus of the absurd

Finishing each episode with calm, quiet words

When my own journey had run off the rails, reeling

And a 12-pack of beer became my medicine for healing

He kept me grounded, though much was amiss

I took comfort in watching guests swing their fists

Long after midnight, numb and nodding off

I sat on my couch like a swine at the feeding trough

Glad to have my thoughts diverted with a laugh

In that time when divorce tore up the roadmap

We exchanged letters in the years that would follow

I continued to hear his wise conclusions echo

“Take care of yourself, and each other”

An admonition I received gratefully, from this video brother

The Ringmaster

Was often considered to be a televised disaster

Yet I felt an alternate vibe

Went along for the train wreck as a passenger ride

While the ratings soared

And those who took offense righteously implored

The producers to cancel

Write him off with a sharpened pencil

Like a crossed-oot entry on the corporate balance sheet

A desire not reflected on college campuses and urban streets

Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!

Quite boldly brash, and proudly contrary

Trash TV in its infancy

Perhaps with a taste of the junior Morton Downey

A car crash into bricks

With a stripper pole and heavy metal guitar licks

Transsexual revelations giving fooled feelers the fits

KKK midgets and miscreant prophets

A man marrying his horse

Jilted lovers duking out a settlement, of course

Preachers and prostitutes

Salacious habits and a flurry of lawsuits

A pretty John with high heels on

I sat up watching those VHS tapes until dawn

Drunk viewing being the best repose

Sleeping on the sofa, still in my work clothes

That is how I will remember, and remember, I will

The discipline of a rogue, satirically skilled

Was he amused by our enduring attention span?

This gentle and shy, slip of a man

Holding a hi-tech tiger by its tail

A strategy too often destined to fail

But this cheerful chum made it work

He fashioned an empire from scandalous dirt

Then sat at his desk in the dark

Smoking an expensive cigar

Thrilled enough to have entertained, and exited with grace

While other seekers sought to take his place

I will reflect on his memory, and weep

Until my bottles have run empty, and I fall asleep

Good Morrow, Master Springer

Thank you sir, for being a good tidings bringer

Rest well

Be it in Heaven or Hell

Your name still causes me to smile

We will meet again, in the afterwhile