state of confusion
Thought I saw you in younger days,
walking down Ocean Boulevard,
midnight hair swaying side to side,
bright eyes piercing all who dared
look at the freak who walked there.
Jeans shaped like blue bells,
black beard long and tangled,
gracefully gesturing to the sky
lost in monologue, or dialogue?
Slung across bare chest, a gun belt,
guitar held across your back,
a funny looking cigarette
dangled from pouting lips,
that unforgettable stench.
You whistled and sang words aloud,
some tune recalled from the past,
a child of God walking along the road,
filtered the stardust in my mind.
I looked again, but you had gone
if you were ever really there,
for I know what I saw was impossible,
you died way back in seventy-four.
Even if reports of your death
somehow were fabricated,
you couldn’t look the same as then
some twenty six years later.
© 2000 CM Bailey
[This message has been edited by Corinne (edited 04-09-2000).]