purple moon Hendrix

mid day liquor store
sun ablaze wearing gold dress
i sit on milk crate smoking break
from unemployed day
boys girls tourists from Detroit
camera filters flashes and lens
they think im something
but im really nothing more than
a puffer of rings up the sky
beside two buildings
average thoughts baseball innings
hamburger helper bowls
gas prices and cheap strip shows
when they bore of shiny Hollywood
back to hotels and premeditated meals
my arms crossed behind my head
laying on fire escape
conversing with blue moon’s older sister purple moon Hendrix

one night at Lou’s gig

Lou remember me from the nose bleeds at the Greek
among the stars and trees you sang about magic loss and happenstance
we were together in LA
no one thought about the irony of your songs or the tragedy in the sparks of people keeping people down forever the sigils of history warn
that night when the heirs raised their fisted hands for some questionable victims
the silver spoon afternoon faculty culture bunch joined the fun to line their vote pouch
the loss streamed with hemorrhaging velocity happenstance remained the same
under controlled televised well made up coiffed dos they watched her burn five days the news ministers said
yet we were all born simmering
Lou i left the forest and i left you
to feel the burn wicked with the same  fire of Pharaoh and Baba-ato
the Tlatoani and Xia and Shang
but in modern America Lou we both agree we prefer to do it Roman style

north beach

i dreaming on the couch
will meet you at Jack’s alley
doo wop were the days
when you let the voices out of their cage a movement of freedom
within the confines of infinite youth
all are welcome and there you go
climbing up the stair to heaven
on steps of words one atop another
city light bay we the beat and stray
hipster pharaoh usher to the generation drunk in experimental experience at night morning sober in stark madness
busses flowers LSD plus the three
i’ll wait in tenderloin scribbling
hieroglyphs on chewing gum wrappers catching whispers in the wind with flowers in my hair
paper cuts betwixt the webs of my hands
snap the jazz between the streets
my shoe untied my notebook knowing
that smile i do when missing you

RIP Lawrence Ferlinghetti