*I live in Southern California, which is a rival region to the Bay area up north. I followed the EASY RIDER route through the south as a teen and tested the width of Texas before battling impossible fog in Mobile. But the coeds at LSU made up for everything when I crashed at a fraternity on the Baton Rouge campus.
Verse Written During a Movie
Violins sing me how to feel
In Death In Venice,
Moving the soul
Like a pawn on a chessboard.
I emit the stink of failure,
That smell reserved for graveyards
And estate sale loveseats.
It is the purgatory stench
Of lost years
With possibilities extinguished.
I consider transformation
Suggested by the blonde barber
Pushing color.
“Gray equals death,” she whispers.
“Do the moustache too,” I instruct.
The days dwindle.
My kidneys struggle.
Laugh at my avalanche of failures
Including my poetic inscription
On the gravestone marker.
Perhaps a crow will land on granite
And shriek at me below.
