The Unfinished Works of Mr. ——

O.K. Mantz

“Who said I was done?” said the man in the grave.

“Who said they want more?” said the boy and the knave.

“I’ve got many more words,” said the bones in the dirt.

“So do we,” said the boy, looking quite hurt.

“All things become clear, I see with God’s eyes!”

“Then be now at peace,” the little knave cried.

“My wisdom—oh whom shall it guide?”

“Only fools boast as such,” the boy said aside.

“You two—” the man pleadingly said.

Groaning, the knave: “oh please just be dead!”

“I give you my heart and all that I’ve done.”

“If you don’t lie down, I’ll shoot with my gun!”

The boy, from his pants, pulled out a Berett’,

With tears in his eyes, the knave then did sweat.

“Hush hush,” the man said. “My time is now near.”

“Your head’s screwed on wrong, your words aren’t clear.”

“You’ll know when you lie here, alongside my own.”

“But unlike you,” they spoke in reply, “We won’t be alone.”

“We’ll see in the end, we’ll see round the bend.”

“We’ll see when the man has worms as his friends.”

“Goodbye, goodbye” said the man in the grave.

“Good nigh’, good nigh’,” said the boy and the knave.

Then they shoveled the dirt back in the pit.

They gave a quick prayer, without grace, but much wit.

“You remember his name?” But the boy shook his head.

The man coughed up blood, then lay silent and dead.