Maurice Sendak is dead


“Where the Gone Things Are”



To the ringmaster.

Cares he commanded,

Laughs were his, too.

A rinse for the mind

When his wilds came through.



-Said the pictures?

Made them of dreams.

Nothing could be branded,

Genius is like that.

In monsters or cats

Or Pig!



There must be more to death

Than no more anything.

If only a sandwich or two,

Some comfort soup? Or milk

Could be death kitchen’s stew.



Taste every side of it,

There’s life and there’s sad,

And there’s a crown, too.

It can’t be all bad,

Not after all that we had.


No bumbles, or swears,

Or lions with maws

Can snatch off the ringmaster’s

Circus of paws.

Where the gone things are

-is wild.


In and out of lives,

For years and for today,

There’s so much to say goodbye to,

And no bye’s good to say.

Death must be more than ‘stop’.

-a higglety, pigglety, pop!



I count one to nine-

But this is over. (No!-when?)

I promise, I swear,

I won’t ever turn Then.

Now is the last line.



1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. turtlephoenix
    May 09, 2012 @ 23:17:03

    Maurice Sendak would be proud. I was thinking of “In the Night Kitchen” today and getting misty. Your poem is wonderful–I love how the stories and books are mentioned in almost riddle like form. My favorite lines: “there’s so much to say goodbye to/and no bye’s good to say.”


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