Berman Gone

Always a sadness in your songs
leavened with humour
mostly at your own expense
baked in a rackety country store. 
In your obit I read
you roomed with Malkmus
clever
left-field
gifted for sure but 
he seemed frat-boy cruel and glib
and you did not. 


You shone for years
still shine through songs 
and poetry. 
Your lines foretold your ending.
‘Foretold‘
a word you might have used
for real
or tongue in cheek
delivered straight
in deadpan Texan drawl. 
You sang
‘The dead know what they’re doing.’
I hope you’re right.