Poem: Under The Leaves
A poem about smoking and/or the brotherhood of friendship. — and Warren. Always for Warren…
“Brother, let me vape your blues away”,
doesn’t have any ring to it —
like when we blew so much smoke
through dreams, cold and telling
anyone who’d listen that smokers
have the best conversations — when
surely we meant lung infections.
Tonight I’m with you and we don’t
smoke anymore, and I don’t even
drink. But we sway to the music
always, stay tuned to similar
frequencies, humming like the end
of a Zevon song; not like end of Warren…