Oh the Stars were Rearranged,
Glinting as Brightly as the Housing Market Early 2008,
Mr Miracle Was Looking on,
His Downbeat Exterior Barely Masking his Toothless Rage,
I was There to Help Usher in and Comfort the Approaching Funeral Party,
Y'See the Cadaver Contained Multitudes of Worlds,
People Were Not Just Bad or Good - It was Beyond Binary,
That's What the Big Man Said.

A Woman Seeped into the Ground,
As Her Son Hurled Large Oddly-Edged Rocks at the Stationary Death Wagon,
I Shouted "Truly, I Have No Comments to add on - the Boy May be Burning with Passion but He Cannot Discern that Gleaming Bentley from a Medieval Dragon",
And the Stones Bluntly Bounced -
As the Car Windows were Rubberised, Reinforced or Just Plain Sturdy,
The Debt had been Paid in Full - We Were at the Funeral of Jack Kirby.

Once the Man had been Laid into the Ground We Manoeuvred to the Nearest Pub - the Noise Homogenous from Afar,
Conversations became a Roughly Edited Dub - their Sounds Bouncing off the Ceiling Tar,
Then a Relative Si-a-lenced the Crowds and Insisted the Attendees Prove their Connection to Kirby's Dearly Departed Soul -
To Which I Piped Up Loudly and Offered Stories of Half Edible Burgers from the Wimpy at Fort Kinnaird MegaBowl.
The Room Erupted with Laughter - Many Coming from a Herd of Unemployed Actors who Regaled us with Tales after of their attempts to win the X-Factor
(Y'Know Like Leon Jackson and his Ilk)
No One Was Impressed with their Contributions - Many Would Have Rather Disposing of Radioactive Pollutants.
Well...Y'Know... Win Some, Lose Some - I Guess.

The Night was Progressing at an Uneven and Unnatural Pace,
There was a Presence Here despite Not Being an Open Casket F-F-F-Featuring Wake,
I Tried Departing to My Fortress of Jokes but the Supernatural Paranoia Overtook us All,
We Witnessed the Steaming Roast Chicken Revert to White and Yolk and a Translucent Comic Book Creator Roam the Pub's Halls -

FOR HE IS RISEN!
RESURRECTED BY A RECLUSIVE PYNCHON!
Truly Kirby was an Intangible Vision Reciting Something about "Nuclear Fission"...

The Cutlery was Now Magnetised and I Started Itching and Wheezing,
Jack Kirby Emitted a Light that Tore Apart Atoms like an Archaic Demon,
Or Maybe it was Just that the Mourners were Beyond "a Little bit Steaming".

"Don't Look into the Light, into the Light that Was Jack Kirby,
Don't Look into the Light, into the Light that Was Jack Kirby,
What is Not Real Truly Cannot Hurt Me,
But Still, Don't Look into the Light, into the Light that Was Jack Kirby."

"Don't Look into the Light, into the Light that Was Jack Kirby,
Don't Look into the Light, into the Light that Was Jack Kirby,
What is Not Real Truly Cannot Hurt Me,
But Still, Don't Look into the Light, into the Light that Was Jack Kirby."

Don't Look into that Light that Was Jack Kirby.