BRUTUS

Jimmy, I devote this book to an old but still young friend.   

I have no doubt Brutus will delight you, for as you thumb through its pages you will be startled into laughter by its foulness. You always found humor at the worst of times; I remember: when the devils put on lewd dances and made the worshippers heave upon the floor with sickness, you always cheered as the hungry dogs came running to lap up the mess. 

I’m too weak to follow you, for you took flight without regarding the price your flesh would pay, but you discovered the truth, stared straight into its face. All the rest of us continued embracing false hopes like mothers’ boys refusing to be weaned. 

Jimmy, you have found eternal youth my memories. I’ll never remember you growing old, feeble, white – your spirit will continue its frolic as I absurdly labor to the end. Unlike you, every time I gaze into a mirror I am a witness to further decay. Each day, my flesh is withering more, becoming useless, wrinkled, worn.   

You never said farewell, but I am blessed to have known you. I will not forget your young face, name, or laughter, though your abandoned bones have long been swallowed into the Earth’s unforgiving bowels.

Goodbye my brother.