he died in 1946
his ghost somehow lives on
the echoes of his mental tricks
have stayed though he be gone
and when the man was still alive
to make his master state to thrive
he'd pen bad economics with his song
he'd split his time between his song
and whispered recreation
for though his wail was mighty long
it ran with innovation
he'd bring a promise of a toy
then ****** boys to bring him joy
and scoffed at hints of fiery damnation
(C)2014, Christos Rigakos
Septet Naarative