Because Val Kilmer’s hot bone is broken and probably dead, I’ve written this poem as a eulogy and I’ve included musical accompaniment. Please be respectful of Brainland’s privacy during this difficult time.
…
Val, you didn’t always make the best choices
Even diehard fans like me couldn’t watch
At First Sight with Mira Sorvino.
But, Val, you were special, you were more than a man, you were like
A MiG 28 soaring through the firmament
When you were good, you were the sum of childhood wonderment,
You were Madmartigan in Willow
When you were very good, you were the treasure of emfeebled nerds,
You were Doc Holliday in Tombstone
When you were awful, it wasn’t your fault
Frankly Oliver Stone is a hack, and that project was doomed from day one
Who really likes the Doors anyway?
Nobody could be smug snide self-important
And lovably roguish like you
Nobody could look that fucking good in pants
Like you did in Top Secret
Val, my friend was an extra in Willow and said you were really nice
And even though Kiss Kiss Bang Bang wasn’t that great, you stole every scene
Which is hard to do…
Against Robert Downey Jr., who is a known scene-stealer
Val, when you were on, you exploded the sun
When you were off I heard you were pretty nasty,
I knew a guy who worked at the J. Crew in Santa Fe
He said you smelled and had food in your teeth
But some people say The Saint is the greatest spy film ever made
And I personally feel, while your Batman was lacking,
Your Bruce Wayne was impeccableAnd I forgive you, forgive you that I had to suppress
The Ghost and the Darkness
Cause that shit was scary
BUT I CAN’T CARE ANYMORE, VAL
Now it’s too late, it’s too late and we’ve lost you
Forever?
Only you, only you, only you
Had the sack power to deride David Mamet for being an asshole
In a commentary for a film
Written by him
You were a rebel, a loner, a rulebreaker
And I’ve still been meaning to check out
Your turn as DeKooning in Pollock,
I just really hate Ed Harris
No matter, Val, ‘tis no matter
Your once immortal visage has risen,
Risen
To the realm of the beautiful sex fairies
Who lounge around all day quoting Top Gun
and wearing their boxers with closing pins like Chris Knight in Real Genius
No, I was wrong, I’m sorry
Take a step forward
Now, take a step back
Step forward
Back
And then we’re cha-cha-ing!
