Jim lives

You left me here in the exhaust
alone in a little corner of life,
and this crazy, this crazy country
a sky, a wife, a job, a dept,
beautiful babies that are gone so fast in time
changing, changing into strong women
the kind I always liked
all like sand and wind rippling through the wheat
orange sand tipped out by gravities bed

This messy crowded needy reality
grinding along in the thing you just accepted
and I always fought
with my death wish as collateral
like some kind of angry fools wish,
give me freedom or else Im gone forever
god

Ahh
my raging contempt
so glad its gone now
in the breath without fire

You left me here in the dream
when you dropped me and hopped out and pumped away
on that bike
me in the passenger seat of the 76 ford
up the hill and away
on that yellow beach banana bike with the fat tires
slipping up that hill in your own sunrise morning
Lincoln city Astoria Seaside Cannon Beach
snippets of days you lived, places you loved

Most damn uncanny drive I have ever had
through time, through your life,
a lovely place in a lovely man
the sun setting on the red hair on your arms
right hand on the steering wheel
of our ghost truck conversation
and me still a child man
yelling wtf dad what about me, what about me
watching him go up the beach street
peopled by ghosts I guess
busy place
seeing him for the first time as a soul
a real person, independent and free of his story
for the first time in eighty years
in the land of the dead
doing his own thing, living his own life
people to meet, things to do
worlds to create
from memories and thought
things we just don't understand
down here in the meat factory

You just took off and left me and I watched
and loved you for your strength
like we all did
loved you for your independence
and your kindness
for your cigars
your weight lifting
your obsessions
your incredible mind and
sharp blue eyes

I have no regrets
except one
my anger
I regret it
why did you always have to be in my sights
representative of all I despised
so unfairly the son can only see the projection
caught up in stories we spin inside our own mountain fortress
alone with the moon in the water because the real thing
has always been to bright
for me to really see

So nice to see you finally ditched that
piece of shit yellow ten speed
that you hung on to for fifty years
like the black 1959 limo
that almost killed us on I-5
until you, I know, were forced to give up
because of sugar blood decay
and it finally rotted away in peace
on Old Mountain road

It was
so nice to see you again
and now I know I will one day
we will drink some beer on a porch
with the summer sun setting
you do the harmonica
and I will do the guitar

never give up
Jim lives