"He had to shave his head for the act... he felt he had no longer any appeal for the fair sex."
   —Moe Howard, on the death of his youngest brother, Jerome (‘Curly’)

I found you
in Jules White's director's chair,
with your head dropped to your chest.
You looked up at me and tried to speak.
But your mouth was too distorted, and
speech would not come.

We didn't know
that you would live
for six more years,
at the Home, still ill,
having more strokes,
while we continued the act
with Shemp.

                     Babe,
for a very long time,
every time I smacked
or poked Shemp,
I saw you.

                  All I want
to know is, did you
every really understand
how handsome you looked
when we let your
wavy, chestnut hair
grow back?