It ends where it all began-
Sunday Morning-
Lou Reed passes away,
like a single chord guitar sound.
The poet from
New York Central.
The Velvet Underground's Revolver,
Warhol found him sometime in 1967.
Listening to Walk on the wild side,
gives a peek to Warhol's factory.
Drugs, sex, rock & roll-
key ingridients of a simple Lou Reed single.
With all the imperfections,
he still managed to make us see a perfect day.
Some 50 odd years after
the release of Transformer,
I don't know,
if his poetic allusions
required moral justification.
Lou was always the progenitor.
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