little purple flower
In a desert of scree
waits for a butterfly

     (me, too)

across the log
as graceful as a dancer...


rising out of the water
jeans and blue t-shirt
like a weighted blanket

muddied and wet
the girl of the lake
delighting in the fall

the playful eyes
that wild in her smile                               

(I too
knew that smile
intimately
once
and dreams were plentiful
as the songs
that kept me alive

but the wind walks
a singular path
through the tall grass
surrounding lakes

a thief tip-toeing into another day)

the red glow of her cigarette.
the fingers of her left hand
yellow  with nicotine
clutching dying flowers

"buy a rose for your lover," she says,
"buy one for your wife. buy 2."

"the flowers are wilted."

"maybe it's your eyes that are wilted.

she had black hair
black as the night
the violent night
and gray eyes
the shade of ***** ice

"you must love
someone,
some of the time, no?
put a rose on
your father s grave, then."

"love is like lost pennies
falling from a broken jar."

she smooths her hair with one pale,
long, fingered hand, "you re crazy."

"my mom says so."

i was born to
have adventure

I followed her up the steps.

i was born to chase the night
through the forest
of dead roses.

I floor the car
through the orange traffic light
pass a line of cars
have to cut in
and I m behind a hearse

trapped in the sad procession
traveling
to
some cemetery...somewhere

and on the way
I have time
to contemplate
my demise...

... at the viewing
as I lay in my casket
I want speakers playing
Purple Haze

and a strope light
in my coffin

the scattered
on again off again
flashing

and
it ll look like

I m dancing... dancing



my last dance

it is a cold january night.

I walk into the bar.

it is "Beach Night", and
ed maloney has trucked in
3 hundred pounds
of sand...
2 drunks are
trying to build
sand castles.

the bartender 's girl friend
is howling to
"the werewolves of London."

the bartender bob has
a mouth full
of tequila
and a lit pack of matches,
he sprays the tequila
setting a pack of napkins
on fire.

crazy george is swinging
from the wagon wheel
light fixture.

ed Maloney yells
something
but jumps
grabbing
the other side of the
wagon wheel light
and the wagon wheel light fixture
and crazy George
and ed Maloney
come crashing down
into a pile.

it is the one bar
that
ed couldn't be
thrown out of.

he owned it.

ed had stolen
thousands of dollars
from the company he work
for.

(the rumor was the company
was the
CIA)

the company
couldn't figure out how
he did it
so they paid him
100 thousand dollars
to tell them
how he did it.

"how did you do it?"
I asked.

"ghosting the darkling"
is all he said.

he always said ghosting the darkling
whether it was the company,
the bar,

life.

That's what he
called it,

GHOSTING THE DARKLING...

                         *    **
The brush stroke of a genius is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, and incidents are
Absolutely True...

(that's my story,
anyway...)

the roof rack:

george:

I pulled the car in the driveway and my father s standing on the porch, he s wearing boxer shorts and a t-shirt

"George, where s the roof rack, where s the roof rack to the car???

George, "what roof rack, dad?"



sam and george at seton hall university:

sam: "we were smoking *** and drinking beer, I don't know who brought it up but we decided to drive to Steubenville, ohio and run naked through the girls dorm, we made it to youngsville, Pennsylvania, we ran out of gas and didn't have any momey so we go into this store, tell the man we ran out of gas and don't have any money, he reaches into the cash register and hands me a twenty...  

stolen cars:

(we weren't stealing cars, we were joy riding...borrowing)

bobby came back with a car, I dove through the back window,  he crashed the car in Belmar, bobby was smart he walked down to  the beach, I went to main street and, the cops stopped me and I would of gotten away just denying it but my hand was bleeding and there was blood in the car...
the owner of the car claimed there was 2 hundred dollars in his wife s pocket book...there wasn't, I know, I went through it...

...I wasn't with sam but he sideswiped a row of cars on second avenue, it was front page news and I read about it...

jack:  they needed valets to park cars at the berkley carteret hotel, this guy pulls up in a mercedes and hands me a ten... I drove the mercedes to the nearest liquor store and bought a six pack. I picked up a ******* 2nd avenue, she really loved the car...
... I pulled the Mercedes into the entrance to the hotel just as the owner of the Mercedes was coming out. I jumped outta the car, handed him the keys, he gives me another ten...

miscellaneous zen moments:


it was the state fair at the horse farm and they were charging 25 dollars per person and jack was with his girlfriend, he didn't want to pay 50 so he climb into the trunk of  the car, unfortunately he put the trunk key in his pocket.

Marybeth pulls the car in front of jack's house.

Jack's dad, "where s jack?"

Marybeth says nothing, stares.

the voice from the trunk, "in here dad."

Dad shakes head.

along emilys hill road
the trees are bare

she's skipping stones
across st martens creek

as she turns
smiling my name

her breath comes out
white clouds
mingles
and hangs in the air

the quiet
stillness
in her eyes

she sees something
in me
that I can't
see

and that s why
i love her so



emilys hill road
unchanged

the trees are bare

she's skipping stones
across
st. martins creek

I believe that's the way
I remember her best