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IV
Old men narrate their day
Now approaching thirty
Have I lived all of my day?
I am not go’n
To end my tale
Live'n to survive comfortably
Remember'n only
Too burdened & Tied down
To earn a single brag'n rite
Deeds all done
Life's flame drained
Pressure'n the courage
To pull the trigger
To end an odyssey
Finished decades past
---
Rabbit the railcar rider
White-haired
Continue’n his tale till the end
His only companion a puppy
& An associate
Just released from jail
This night having the luck
for a stranger
To offer powwow
In the back alleys
On a Missoula night
.
.
.
It is hard to describe the fright
At see’n the compass turn
Round & Round Erratically
Nights plagued with
Cries, growls & melodies
Nuts tossed down
By large monkeys
Perched in canopy
Despite this
An evil place
Bent to swallow all life
With life
The Jungle is the best place
To travel barefoot
.
.
.
Christina only 16
But big brothers
Know best
A month in Jamaica
Cures all ailments
We would wade to
Monkey Island
Take in red wisps of sunset
In ocean water
Into a Coconut Bong
Roam'n on an island
All to ourselves
Among large lizards & canopy
Jump'n off the 30ft cliff
To waters
Green, clear & warm
We waded back at dusk
Avoid'n the prick of
Red Sea Urchins
_
I commented as we ate
Fresh Jerk Fish
‘ This is delicious
‘ Cept for all the bones
Christina looks up
Face smeared of fish
None left in the foil
' There were bones?
.
.
.
South Texas Moon
Bright for harvest
Above the schoolgrounds
Sleep’n on cardboard
The pack of us
No where else to go
But right here
Swisher lick’d & roll’d
Pass’n the tight blunt
Round that roof
‘ What you think Clay
I look’d for counsel
Have’n never hit
‘ Not a big deal
‘ To do it or not
He assured me
The smokey coal taste
Hit me with immediate revulsion
There was no Cherry Taste
There was no Scooby Doo
.
.
.