It was just me and Tony, a couple of fools,
having a good time-
night time summer time, New York time,
between the flowers and the Big Plan
heading for the Freedom Cafe.
Then there's Tony, jumping up on the bridge
above the abyss.
Just another game
before we go
to play the band.
His flesh is shining in the
soft bruised heat and
when he turns grinning, and loses footing,
His eyes give up a piece of light
to mine before
he leaps out of the ocean of his brain.
His shadow like a dark fish, floating
past the neon sign, past the neuropathways
flashing " Freedom Cafe.
He is let go
from the old man
He had been waiting
He sinks fast, time rewinding in the pit of
Lowers himself into
some other realm,
where there is
no sidewalk still holding the sun
no heartbeat in its warm cage
no sound no summer
no people passing by, laughing,
no garbage or city dogs sniffing the decay
No music from the Freedom Cafe.
I scream Tony Tony
flying like an angel
towards the waters
past the dumb dark pines
whose scaley cones are
blown out like
dead Christmas lights.
And he is a planet
careening between the dark and the light .
And I am a ghost on fire, screaming
Tony Tony as he falls
into the mud
beside the luminous stream.
In her sleep, his woman
Deeper into the dream
Her sex aching like a swollen river
She turns away from him
And into her old womb, the sleeping Mother
gathers back again the bones
of her broken son.
Buries him into her mud.
Holy little drum