gripped the
shaver
the saw and the hammer
with the same
steadiness
the same nonchalant
confidence
that so many
falsely
lay claim to
these days
he painted signs and
sometimes cars
like Michaelangelo at the
Sistine
the same focus and
determination
the smoke of a freshly lit
Benson + Hedges
dancing in languid
tribute
His mind
quicker than the
twist
of the shrieking drill
spooled up by
book
after book - "what you readin' today, Grandson?" - and
pressed smooth by the
vise
of experience
in his fedora
and white shoes he
defined cool
even before anyone
agreed the need for the term
A man of his century
he left a
legacy
for all time
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