On the human skull who sits on the shelf overlooking my computer

Deadication - For my favorite "zenmind headskull poet- Dan X

There you sit - day after day-
I suppose I take you a bit for granted
But I suppose that can't be helped
Been together almost thirty years now
You and I-
Which makes you -- I suppose --
My single longest successful relationship
--- sigh ----
And yet I know so little of you
I know - of course - how you
Came to be with me
Christmas gift from my friend
Barre
Found you- according to him
In a small out of the way
Junk shop in
Chicago-
And he has never
Given me cause to
Doubt his
Veracity -
The perfect thing
He thinks
For someone like me
Who bleeds greaspaint
And loves the
Bard-
I also suspect
That you were a bit
Of one-ups-man-ship
Payback for the bookstand
Crafted from a human spine and pelvis
Found in an out of the way
Junk shop
in a small midwestern town-
And given to him
On his birthday
By Me
-- but that is another poem --
"Yorrick"
He suggests I call you
I tried it-
But the name wouldn't stick
A bit too "on the nose"
I guess
Of course you don't have one
A nose I mean
The way you're smiling
I see you get the irony-
Besides- don't know for certain
If you are (were)
A man or a woman
(Without earrings I can't tell)
But of course you haven't
Got any ears
Either-
Your smile has changed
It always does
When you think I'm trying too hard
You get that sneer that cats get
When they smell something
Unpleasant-
And of course you're always right
Which pisses me off
You know me too well-
I'll never understand fully
How it is you make your
Thoughts
So clearly understood
Nor where they come from
For that matter-
For wherever you came from
Before
The Chicago junk shop
They sawed off your top-
Now two tiny hooks
And eyes
Hold it in place-
Nothing inside
I've looked-
Not a remnant of
Dream
Or shard of
Nightmare
Smooth like a bowl-
Someone once suggested
using you as a candy dish
Fool
You are a friend after all
Of sorts
And a friend does not
Use another friend's cranium
To store
Butterscotch discs-
So you sit in a place of honor
Third shelf up
Between the jumbo bottle
Of
Bubble soap
(That is yet another poem)
And the slip-cased
Leather-bound edition of
Boccaccio's "Decameron"-
Like me
You appreciate a wide variety
Of intellectual stimulation-
Oh good - a grin -
Back on the right track-
You sit there
And
Judge me - cajole me -
Confound me - unsettle me -
-- Comfort me --
When my time here among the
Living
is over-
Perhaps I shall have
My head
De-fleshed -
And you and I
Could go thru eternity
As bookends-
A purpose at last
For us both-
But I fear that such plans
Will be out of my control
There are some things
That must be
Left to the vagaries of
Fate -
-- look who I'm telling --
Another smile
Good
I shall quit while
I'm ahead
Or rather-
You are --