Your name
here---------------->
He leaned back in his chair, shading his eyes from the strong afternoon
sunlight – a breath of cigarette, cupped in his mouth and transfigured, his
taste of bourbon sweet on his tongue….squinting through the parable, the
still life, this small, sweet taste of love and life…wondering, watching, as
his body felt the years and the booze, and the late nights, and the women,
and the cheap motels, and the late night serenades, the escapades, the
adventures of Lothario of the Catskills, Casanova of the Bowery, Best of the
bunch, pick of the fucking litter – you betcha Jack, slide one down to me
and let me tell you this story so bitter, so much bigger than life,
especially yours, and more interesting by the minute as the drinks get deeper and the
well gets wetter…
A sage pause in conversation, a rest from wit, a deep breath for the next
thundering of opinion, the next dredge of neurons, the final commentary.
Holding court from cheap booze and more, and wanting to wake up the wide
world with his loud Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned to the navel…
Mister, give me your ear, what story can I sell you, tell you, make you want
to hear me, make you want to give me money, just to hear what I have to say
about you, about me, about no-one that ever existed, no one who ever
mattered much until now, and his or her story told…by the moment growing
more interesting ……fulfilling that ultimate and final responsibility –
generating interest, generating some conversation, some relief from that
quiet desperation
Make me forget Jack, make me forget where I really am, just for fifteen
short minutes make these dingy walls go away – open my mind to a sunlit
bower, an all night confessional, a drive cross-country.....
Make it last Jackie boy, cause this may be the only shot you got at this you
gotta get it right from the start – hit pay dirt with that first strike,
make me crazy boy, crazy, take me lazy boy, lazy
Jack? Jack, where did you go, man? We lost you there for a second. You
still with us, or you so drunk you can’t talk anymore?
“Sanctification. Purity. Clarity”
“What, Jack?”
“What this world needs now. Some other penance, some other confessional,
some other virgin….:
“You are talking crazy talk, Jackie, just crazy” he said laughing, the big
teeth white against his black skin. “Another round bartender, another round
for my philosopher friend here, and his crazy ideas” Saying this he laughed
again, leaning his head back and holding his stomach, his eyes rolling back
into his head
