Was a schlepp to see him in his casket,
When we got there, it was some sort of basket.
We had traipsed through the park
to see Mark
Bask like a shark in a suit.
We saw him in the murk, in the muck
In the shadows he lurked.
It was just his foul luck
to get struck
on his first day at work
on the dock
by a heavy brick-bucket.
His granny, clutching her locket.
His empty eye socket
We all clocked it.