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2002-09-26

Michael L. Webster
B. 3.18.52 Tomahawk, Wisconsin / D. 9.24.02 Pittsburgh
Heart Attack

“Fail not our feast.”
The cruelest command, its words most maddening to the dead—they can’t rest for thinking it through, can’t sit down or stop laughing.
“Play hard for coach and you’ll always be somebody.”
Go ahead Iron Mike—finish the game! Hup!—Twenty-three—thirty-one—Haunt! Hall-of-Famer your dead brain damaged patootie—Haunt Haunt! Into the path of every 3 AM potty-wards stumbler in every mansion that the NFL has ever built—rear up colossal!

Consolation Site: Bigger Than Banquo

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