The list is getting longer; inevitably so.
I number more acquaintances
and friends as men I used to know.

Yesterday they buried Lloyd
and I recalled that rain of fists  
I did my utmost to avoid.

Still, it’s shocking; dead from drink
and shy of fifty. Shifty, yes,
and feared once. I can’t but think

how reputations alter in decline.
He was trouble, but his troubles
far exceeded mine.