You were gone for a bit, then returned
They had you in white; you gave in
For a bit... And the shop stayed open
And the usual crowd was here,
But something was very wrong somewhere:
There were still some books--not many,
But some--the solum scriptores
Was still on the door, but not sustained.
The pictures were still on the wall... But then
Where was that mens sana
In voce terribile? The crude
Scientists lingered a while to browse...
And why not? No one was rude
To them any more. Gordon, the ol' shop
Jest ain't what she should be when you're not here.
Old bombat, terrifier, we know your worth;
Wracker of cities, Gordon, We're glad you're here. Andrew Wylie February 11, 1967