Shot by Cobain

It was the old routine. Recreation group where we board the elevator down the first floor, exit, walk down 3 sets of cement stairs, cross the crosswalk, follow the center building for a jaunt, turn right, navigate a series of warehouses-where there’s always a puddle in the same spot regardless of rain or shine, across the railroad tracks, thru the grocery parking lots, across another street to a small park where we’d sit on park benches and smoke cigarettes until the group []

Yoko at John’s Art Show

I learned from my friend Chris- a casual dressed loser who has a penchant for sex, violence, and being rude, no insulting- that John Lennon’s Art Exhibit was being held close by. We got in Chris’s car- black Mazda- and drove to the exhibit listening to the Julianna Hatfield 3, one of many Blake Babies spinoffs. We paid $2 to get in. The prints were first edition on REALLY nice rice paper, band signed or stamped by John’s special Japanese block insignia. []

Dylan at the CD Exchange

It was fall. The students were back on Kirkwood bustling in and out of shops. Punks playing in the park. Street musicians hanging out at the steps. I walked to Dunkirk Square where there’s a series of stores. At the plaza stood an old beggar man. He had a gnarled hat, weather-worn face, crooked nose, a walking stick,black sunglasses. His arm reaching out. He wore a tan, long, trench-coat, and had a silver tin cup in one hand. He called for change. []

written in 1995

I went on a drinking binge for you. Call this a hoax, Made it a joke, This ain’t no lie folks. Throw that on your lap and try to move with it, groove with it, And your coolie friends I’m not let in on, If I’d have stayed with them, they woulda been gone, Call that havin’ fun, just like the rest of them. Heard you said I’m selfish. You may be right, but I’m better than butter when it comes down []