BOGARTIN'

His name was wrong…

“Bob” Carr

blue-collar job Bob

sitting there with hair

half-way down his back

flannel skew-buttoned shirt

running about five ounces around

in that bent colander.

“This is the plan, see,

whatever falls through,

we smoke,

what stays I’m selling.”

I looked over at what was left

from Mexico

like a bale of hay

with the ropes cut

he drew this big ole

Sherlock Holmes calabash,

“Puff the magic drag-on”

from inside his vest,

and we fired up…

assumed ourselves chimneys,

blew blue rings…

“Whoa, man, is that song still on?

Sure is a loooong song…”

I wonder what that dance

looked like… We guys

swaying around the room

arms up, laughing,

eating old hot dog buns.

drinking Cokes,

listening to that loooong song,

thinking if he was my kid,

I would have named him Ford,

or Chevy.

Copyright

Vol Lindsey

7/27/2010

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I was thinking of Don MacLean...
drove my chevy to the levy, wasn't a fan of fords.
or maybe drove my chevy to the fiord.
that was a very long song...about a day when the music died because a certain couple rockers had such short songs/ lives...
I think I will have a coke now....
this is where your poem took me...and I am still dancing, by the way.
j.

[Lorry]

Now, I may have grabbed the wrong end of the stick here, but I can't but help think of how I had a similar thought in my younger days, while herbally medicated, that the young upstart Dylan, although a poet to his core, did sometimes warp my perspective of time by fitting songs that went on for days onto his albums.
I seem to remember being at fault for not only missing dinner, but supper and breakfast too!
My parents never understood how it was always Bob's fault, but what parents ever did get it, DaddyO? 😊