For Tim Congdon and Zach
bad times
an email
from a dying friend
sydney bechet
‘summertime’
and a fried transaxle
two thousand bucks
but it beats the 10%
the doctor gives to Tim
not just the toilet paper poet
no but the man who sold
pine trees, dogs and kept
a herd of horses in the catskills
who once tried to sell me a crystal
that would clean my wash
without detergent
and gave me a beefalo roast
from a beast he had raised
and zac his son
bad times for everyone
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Tim. Takes what he can and gives what he can. In the end it’s a wash. One hand washes the other and both hands wash the face
Comment by Wailin Willie — December 14, 2008 @ 2:04 pm