I read that he had been cremated and that the toxicology reports were damning.  His death was so definite, so absolute on paper.

   Yet here he was, singing & dancing across my TV screen.  He was so alive, so effervescent & tangible that I found it hard to believe he no longer existed.  This life force in front of me had been condensed down into a box of ashes-to be scattered in the winds or set somewhere cool and quiet, I didn’t know.  And though the part of him I knew was artificial, sent thru the wires in a collection of pixilated images, I felt the sadness of his loss nonetheless.  I can watch him over & over, thru rewind and fast forward, yet the nostalgia slowly drifts in, like dust on the screen.  For now I know that his face  is a testament to something and someone which no longer exists and never will again.

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