for Phillip Seymour Hoffman

in the middle of the greatest city on earth
there is a park
and in the middle of the park
there is a theatre
where the players
mimic life and death

we pay attention
because life is what we want
what we live for
and in our darkest dreams
fear, and in them, the actors
it is writ so plain

today, the war on drugs
claimed another victim
another victim,
convicted and executed
because no one could
forget the drug,
forgive the drug,
love the drug — to death

instead, the great actor, plays the part —
once again, life mimics art —

too bad no one told the lead

when the great actor died
he floated over the world
and sprinkled pixie dust
so people would never forget
dreams come true
dreams are all that are true

the only way to love the world
is to have someone who doesn’t
know they love you
sew your shadow onto your heels

to prompt you,
there’s no need to fly