It felt like everyone on the subway was talking about him.
I was at the Dundas station heading to St. Clair West
when I found out.
The phone call from her only added to the sense of time and place.
There was the city wide festival
and a surprising summer romance,
but what I remember most was that no matter where I was
for the next two days, someone was playing his music
in their cars, out of the apartment windows, and in storefronts.
I may have even let a tear drop into my corn soup
when Human Nature came on the radio
at the Jamaican spot I was hanging.
Perhaps it was the sad irony hitting me,
that even at the height of his powers
he never really got to freely enjoy the fruits of his labors.
He was finally free now to smile beautifully forever
as a young, black talent where no one could
hurt or disappoint him any longer.
We all collectively failed him
and yet he never stopped giving to us.
Maybe we didn’t deserve him.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Nuclear Polio Vaccination 
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