Sounded the drum of his
Spent generation
Bobbity bomp bomp jazz me man

On the road without a home
War-orphaned
Drifting through the passing

Years
Nameless streets, forgotten bars
Lampposts dripping on dark corners

Hands to roll a cigarette
Words and women dropping in and out
Bottles to pour salvation

Soothing fire
In the cold flat of night
Eyes open and close

The music sassy, blue
Pounding
Surprising rhythms

Making it up
Beat by beat
As you go.


(Previously published in Pogonip, Apr.2000; Jack Magazine, Issue 1, Summer 2000)