In a dirty, dingy dive, in a dire haze of old memories, I sit with Uncle Patrick; dead quiet as always with a Campari and Soda to soothe …
On a Sunday, in the early evening,and I hear this couple,screaming their heads off,and I’m over six foot and I’m looking through hedgerows, through blossoms, purples and pinks …
Across the Russian wastes towards Leningrad and Moscow. Across the flats, the galloping horses thunder on, the Empress pressing with God-Speed from Riga before the snow and fur …
[For Kari Jeppesen] – I watched you die, little bird, how you squirmed, the crazy cat plucking you gracefully from your aborted flight, crimson spurting, eyes rolling loosely …
Foot pedal and cymbals, the beat, the kettle drum, and the girl and the hi-hat solo. Good looking men watch her deliver from the shadows. Are you Jack? …
[For Kari Jeppesen] – Johnny Cash on the Jukebox – Walk the Line. In a truck stop with bloodshot eyes, and all-night drivers, and builders in blue jeans …
Spring has sprung, and new blossoms burst. Hungered by the lack of fuel, the compost heap beckons from across the garden, angry steam rising from its core of …