Lazarus

Maybe there should have been an entry for the 10th. But it was impossible to write, listen or think. Instead emptiness.

The unwanted void.

No resurrection this time.

No miracles.

There was excitement, the anticipation of the new record. Switch on the TV to images of db everywhere. Something's very wrong. You see it but can't believe it.
Had ten years of rumours. All false.

Now there's the new album. More to come.

There's a knock on the door - it's the postman. My vinyl has arrived. What timing. I look at the cardboard box for ages. I can't open it. I can't bear to listen to anything.

It's as bad as 1977. How must his family be feeling?

The assertions of contrivance are ridiculous. Everyone wants to live. There's more to offer. More to come. Not now.

Post-script: Lazarus is a musical-theatre piece. Lazarus is sung by T.J. Newton and it's his character which is stranded in perpetuity on Earth, not Bowie. This is not a requiem for Bowie nor D.R. Jones (but you can add your personal interpretation if you wish). Bowie was full of work. There was a sequel to follow and a new album in the pipeline.

Blackstar, though full of the perils of mortality, is not contrived. It's life-affirming in many places.

Constellations shine and 'burn brightly.'