[I met a man a dying man]

I met a man a dying man and I said me too.
Met a dead man and I said me too. Must be
dead cuz the living can’t meet the dead and he
said me too. Did you know the dead can fall
in love he said. Fact. Did you know the dead
fall in love better than the living cuz nothing
left to lose. The root of all blues. Skeptical still
I strode onward in my seven-league boots as in
the fairy tale “Hop-o’-My-Thumb” from a book
of German fairy tales given to me when I had
chicken pox. Scratching myself bloody, the ogre
gored to death by wild beasts. Seven leagues per
stride toward a dead banjo player in a bad
mood. Enchanteur. Or zauberhaft in German.