POEM - Jim and I, 1971

Jim and I

Only shared the earth

For half a year

Before he disappeared

Lost in Paris

I was pretty unaware in those days

People tell me I was born

I behaved

Ate well

Slept better

Had a good disposition

Made my parents think

They were pretty good

At this parenting thing

But I have

Since I was aware

Felt born at the wrong time

A decade or two late

At times

A century or two

At others

Not that modern times are so tough

I just like the look of things then

Mid-century thin, clean lines

A shunning of the Victorian

Suit and tie and shined shoes

Sitting at the typewriter

Listening to phonographs

And a nice family dinner

At the table

Every night

And then there’s Jim

I wanted to know all that other stuff

So I could rebel against it

Be one of the first

See Morrison in person

Be at the Whiskey-a-Go-Go

Stop wearing the suit

Grow my hair

From everywhere

But I was born at the end

And Jim left before we met

And I haven’t been to Paris

And I miss the Lizard King