For Ray Crump, In Corners and Along Dusty Walls

We find you on the Metrodome’s fringes:
Is it open?
Let’s find out.
You’re the
clowning younger kid
on the dance floor
at his older’s sister’s
bat mitzvah.
You are free admission.
You are empty,
silent and deserted
and we are the only
two cameras
in your home.
Ray, we thank you
for your hospitality,
your history
with George Carlin
and Hank Williams, Jr.,
he of the sunglasses
and shirtless chest,
sprawled on a bed
while you
and your wife
flashed teeth
for an unseen observer.