Are you now dreaming away?
escaping from white walls,
white rock holding metal bars
and white cops hold keys.
Are you wandering in fields
with bluebonnets, writing them
sonnets, hoping to find yourself
somewhere else in the morning?
I bet the food reminds you
of High School Crapeteria lunches.
Are you remembering late night
talks we’ve had about the
Outlaw Press? Do you know
how much you’ve given of yourself
to art. to women. to bars?
For feature readings, for friendship,
hoping you can still get a grip
on reality? Do you know how much
you’ve given to me?
When I was too scared
to get up and read in front
of strangers, when I thought
no one would listen to what
I had to say, you took me
under your wing and showed me
how to make my own way
my friend, the one who loved me
right away, the guy who
I so admired for his tenacity
and his way with hot hippie women.
His truth telling and taunting
of the world and its axioms.
Are you wandering away now
silently and unaccountable?
A soft spoken fable,
an old story amongst friends
of that poet we’d all love to see again.
I want to see you again.
I want us to go on Monday
to the Hole In The Wall
for $2 pints
and skirts so tight,
the Protestants want to make them illegal!
I want us to grab some girls and some smoke,
go down to Camel’s Hole and listen
to hippie drum circles til dusk
watch unleashed dogs fuss
about who marked off territory first.
I want us to go to a Mid-Texas poetry festival,
hook up with Thom so he can give us
some new reading material.
I know he writes poems everyday.
I want us to go to La Tazza Fresca
that week, set the stage ablaze
with poems that make girls knees weak!
And watch them gaze, because its damn sexy
to be a Texas Outlaw Poet.
Well, I’ll keep a place for you
at the Hole In The Wall,
make sure the Lone Star’s on call
and make sure hot bartenders
take us home 🙂
I’ll read an extra poem,
“The Greatest Poems Of All,
Rode Hard And Put Up Wet,”
sadly, that’s as good as it gets
for now, at least.
But, I’m not going anywhere,
this place is my home,
and when you come back,
my door will be open to you.
COPYRIGHT © 2005 JOEL AUSANKA REESE