On the passing of
Phillip Seymour Hoffman
February 2, 2014
No doubt you stood out
Complex artist with underbelly
exposed to pain’s harpoon
You, who waged war on mediocrity
defying popular appetites in film-
on stage, a master craftsman, honed.
And where are you now?
The son of a grieving woman,
Have you undone yourself?
Who will star as you? Who
will tell Capote the truth
about your passing?
Perhaps each piece chipped away,
or the script faded to black.
Did the role call for this?
Critics pause, speechless.
Their clackity-clack silenced,
remembering the awe of you.
Your children will see your movies
when they grow. Will you be
in the audience, too?
Or will you be rehearsing
with the other lost icons,
a moving apology or sober goodbye?
Word Play 