12; an After Midnight Poem-

08/18/2013 12:22 AM= 7

-Listening to the Spanish Bob Dylan;

the Mystery Man Sixto Rodriguez—

music industry not good business for him—

South Africa loves him…

-I remember the streets I grew up in,

Rosemead Ca…my three best friends—

I will never forget them; we were street

boys learning the streets and avenues of

our city…

-Sleep is catching up then fades away like

mist; an image in the fog as it walks away

to the nothing it came from…

-Mr. Tambourine man delivers dreams in

nine clouds; the tenth cloud belongs to me—

Sugar man to the ladies I cross path with—

one is delivering the labor of my fruits…

12:39 AM= 15

-‘Crucify Your Mind’ begins to play;

I contemplate the crucifixion of my mind to

poetry, the crucifixion of my body to the

night, and soul unforgiving—

Was dying on a cross at 33 necessary?

(waiting a minute)

12:44 AM= 11

-If you’re wondering the sequence of the time

annotated—simply the degree of my thoughts;

illuminated thinking…

7+15+11= 33

Excuse me while I inhale inspiration; oil burns

slower in dirty pans, pot is never too far away,

a skip of a cloud; as a matter of fact my buds

are tightly sealed…

“Who was Jane S. Piddy?”

This has been another moment in the life of…

Do I need to say?

12:56 AM= the end of this piece…

to be continued






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