Mugs was jubilant when Smokey Robinson are arrived for a regular visit.
I was not aware that they were friends, but that didn’t surprise me.
I was excited as well, for a different reason.
Ya see, the Bob Dylan concert hall had been damaged in a tornado.
I caught wind, that his performance would be taking place in my apartment
complex’s parking lot instead, right outside my back door, next to my neighbor’s
broken-down Dodge Ram Truck. I was standing right by the lonely tube microphone
when Dylan arrived…
(Mugs, I swear I kept tryin’ to tell ya this, but OF COURSE, you would hear nothing of it.)
Neither would Smokey who said, “right now, Mugs wants to hear It’s alright ma..”
I rushed off to find the tape..
Mugs demanded,” HEY, DON’T SORT THRU THAT MESS NOW!!”
then he gripped my hand, felt his gnarled bones almost snap mine,
could feel his spirit leaving his body, see it drop that ol’ walking stick,
and begin that final travel north, disappearing into the night.
Categories: Manic Beatnik Riffing