Day after the
Dead play Compton Terrace
Jim Sr. grins,
takes two Valium, and disappears
Jim’s dad
sold straight pot
No oregano
and cheap to friends
A homegrown
severance pay
The former
cop gets no hassles
Grows it
right out on the back porch.
I joined the
story earlier that morning
I found four
legs hangin’ out
From a ’51
Chevy named Xochiquetzal
The
gods of love were sleeping inside.
Last
night Fletch and Jim parked and crashed.
Even
my idols have to get their rest
I had hope in
bestowal of virility
As I hopped
in the back seat
Of the
ancient love machine
Windblown to
Tucson fueled on Waffle House
And the
energy of half stoned Heads in the parking lot
Begging a
buck, bumming a ride, chasing the next show
All too high
to understand we weren't going their way.
I never
touched any of that stuff
Jim didn't either, but he sucked ink like water
Every pore
connecting the dots
Of a massive
paint-by-numbers
At 17 already
the canvas a third filled.
I had
religion and at two-thirds converted
There was
still enough room left
For a truck
shaped Aztec love god
To throw some
blessings my way.
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