This dream was so real...
The Man
The Legend
The Legendary Drunk Poet Hisself
Asks to see my poetry
Tells me to bring wine

Dont Forget the wine *******

So I drive over in my El Camino
&
Bellbottoms
Only I’ve got a can of Fruit Punch
12%
Alcohol
Instead of a bottle of wine
As Hank requested

you have to make the reader jump off the cliff with you in your first line, otherwise there’s no point

sip

good God! What is this?!

I’m thinking he’s gonna be furious
But he takes a deep pull
Knocks out half a can
Looks at it

Fruit Punch eh?

I show him my stuff. He likes it. Some of it.

No more poetry for the day man. Say, let’s go to the beach. Huntington or Hermosa. Grab another can or two of this amazing concoction

I tell him they have it in Lemonade
Peach Black Cherry...he lets out a smile

burp

It smells like Fruit Punch

Well Come On *******!

He talk in rhyme the rest of the day...n just like his words have told me about souls

The free one is rare...but you know it when you’re around one because you feel great and beautiful yourself when you’re near one

Saw that green piece of paper blowing in the wind and humans just know...
‘That’s $10...’
And now I can get a Chopped BBQ sandwich and a bottle of good beer on the way home even though I’m short $9 on my power bill due 2 days ago.
That smell is divine as I open my door and swig my beer & rip the CUT OFF notice from off the ****
Let’s eat good everynight...

She tells me I owe her a sea story
From my navy days...
Told her the barracuda one
Maybe I’ll tell her the Face Down
On the Deck one
Or the Smoked Hash in the Park
In Italy one
Had a guitar, 3 chords, and hash
Singing Bessa Mi Mucho to Italian
Teenagers...they loved it
I was the silly American
Or maybe the one where we got the scoop on the only ****** in that seaside town in Spain, then showed up and half the ship was there...
Or the Dunhill cigarettes of France
To go with the Stella Artois or Heineken that seemed to be prevalent everywhere.
Cause that’s what you do at 23
Drink beer, smoke cigarettes, and run a mile and a half in 12 minutes.
I could talk all day of the women of Israel...
Or all the times that I’d go to the stern of the ship
And it’d be just me and the seas
The Adriatic
The Aegean
The Mediterranean
Atlantic
Sometimes the hammerhead
The sea turtle
The midnight mermaids
Black Seas
Blue and Green
But you’ll hear all of them soon enough
Yeah I can be fun at parties cause I got a shitload of stories...
Put some coffee on...pour the wine...
You got any hash?

Desert. Pile. Fire.You.Walk. Slowly.
Behind. Me.
‘What’re you doing?’
‘Burning’
‘Burning what?’
‘My Words’
You try to stop the flames
It’s all too much
The orange & red mix with the night sky

‘WHY?! WHY?! Would you do such a thing?!’

You’re screaming, crying.

‘All your beautiful words...’

‘Its the pact I made with the gods...
‘Deliver me this pain...
‘This anguish away from you...
‘And you can have my words...
‘Forever...
‘And here you are in front of me...

The fire is big...it’s bright...it’s out of control and long into the night

My Words...
Burn apart...musings...turning into ash...
Fireworks of poems
Now into the ether
Making their way into the heavens
Parts of nebulas
Black holes
Interstellar space

I’d give it all up
All of it...
For you...

Let this season begin...
Let the oak wool winter Cabernet
Give way To Chardonnay
Ditch that sweater
Pull out that skirt
Let me be a gentleman
Mix drinks upon a patio
Look towards the southwest
A Springtime Electrical Storm Approaches...

Some acknowledge it better than most...
The halfway point of your life
For some...
Achy bones
Tiredness
Memories
The fact they can remember 1978
Some will see their aging faces
Wrinkles in their hands
Some will hold onto their youth
Like a match light...holding onto it
Desperately...in their own futility

For some it’ll happen on a beautiful dawn
Tell themselves
‘It’s ok. I’ve made it this far’
Continue their journey

And some will watch their Youthful Ship
Pass the beaten wooden pirate
Frigate
Sometime during the night

‘Do you listen to music when you write?’

Duke Ellington ‘In a Sentimental Mood’ is a fave. Sets tone. Brings mood. Love some John Coltrane intermittent weaving throughout. That sax is like rain on Mars.

Miles Davis ‘Flamenco Sketches’
But what about Blue in Green? I like it but Flamenco sets the table. Give me Cafe Bustelo, French Vanilla, and this one and I’ll write your will out for you where everyone cries...

Moby ‘God Moving Over the Face of Water’ Deep, penetrative thoughts conquer over this. The piano makes me fly, brings me back down and sets me like a feather.

My Morning Jacket ‘Only Memories Remain’ Wrote a whole book to this. The Wurlitzer and then the guitar solo at the end is stupefying to me.
And how do I feel when I listen to these pieces?
What I see is what I write down:
My Father’s Hands
My Mother’s *******
Footprints in the snow
Bruises upon my soul
Forests on fire
Sunsets on Mars
Her naked woman curves
Highways into the night
Lava flows
***** feet
My daughter being born
Sunrise coming up from an ocean
Moss growing over everything
Brownstones in Greenwich Village
Empty wine bottles

The music helps
Amplifies
Energizes

What music do you listen to when you write?

It wouldn’t surprise me one bit...
If she walked back into my life...
But...
Not today
Nor tomorrow

But...10,20, 50 Years From Now

She’d want to pick up where
We left off...
Tell our stories of where we’ve been...what we’ve been up to
And she’d know our time apart
Was torture upon my soul...
‘But none of that matters now...’
She’d say

And today
If she saw me
Walking across Antarctica
She’d just keep going
Maybe she’d look back
But I doubt it...

But...10,20, 50 years from now
Who knows...