Were I to die, no one would say,
“Oh, what a shame! So young, so full
Of promise — depths unplumbable!”
Instead, a shrug and tearless eyes
Will greet my overdue demise;
The wide response will be, I know,
“I thought he died a while ago.”
For life’s a shabby subterfuge,
And death is real, and dark, and huge.
The shock of it will register
Nowhere but where it will occur.
-JOHN UPDIKE
No. The fact an old man was able to string together such a set of words gives me hope, cause I'm getting kinda old.
You'll be missed Mr. Updike. I hope you knew that.
Go buy a copy of Rabbit, Run right now.
6 comments:
Gertrude and Claudius. So good.
In the late 1970s, I walked past Updike in the Boston Public Library's main branch. I didn't even wave. I thought he had enough groupies groping him.
Skip "The Witches of Eastwick". :(
I read evrything he wrote, and will miss him too.
it's like that guy in amadeus...the yearning was there but not the talent... i read that poem and was awestruck and humbled
http://archive.salon.com/people/feature/2000/02/09/sevenvices/print.html
It mentioned Hunter S. Thompson and John Updike, as well as martinis.... I had to send it to you.
I have drunk since I was 15 and few things have given me more pleasure. When you work all day with your head and know you must again work the next day, what else can change your ideas and make them run on a different plane like whiskey?
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