It was a magical summer.
Lodi blared as fireflies glowed,
leaves fluttered in the pure winds
of those cool Georgian nights.

We scared them foxes
something good.
You were classic in
your favorite auto.
They peed in their pants
seeing a werewolf and me
driving around the park
in a beat-up Chevy Impala.

You’re gone now,
alcohol took you away.
I still have the mask
somewhere in a box.
I sure miss you,
those good times
and Fogarty.