True grace delights in friendship dear and rare J. O. J was the cool-cat; graceful as friend he was indeed Until the hamattan stripped him of his cover, lifeless Jim; effusive, elaborate, and doting he remained to friends Brash and brazen he stayed to vane and counterfeiters Jim, never shy; was political with sharp-lashing tongue Sometimes tongue turned two edge anyone, unsheathed Sober, sometimes coldly and shrewd on business dealings Yet, never the puritan, money he made he spent to spoil Among peers, a star; jet strike and style were his strides Nothing would have therefore be more reeling, perplexing Than hear large Jim; an apostle, the evangelist of life, dead Laying bare, exposed, the rot beneath life’s hidden veneer That riches can render hope and refuge to health, titanic lie Exposing wealth, a Pharisee, peacock, descendant of Lucifer Failing, deserting when needed, brewing with the enemy Broil innocent Jim was stifled, to wreath and wretch