Here is a link to my YouTube channel where I read my poetry https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rOGBCY2FM_c
We were drinking ourselves into the grave. I escaped temporarily. Greg didn't. He was crossing a busy street in Iowa City. In his baggy, dirty jeans was a bottle of vodka that he had just lifted. I'm guessing he was in too big a hurry to "get well" and knock off the shakes. A minivan ran him down.
Before the booze wrecked him, he was a lawyer, and a pretty damn good golfer. But what I remember the best were our days at Prairie Meadows, playing the ponies. We cashed a few winning tickets together, and tore up some losers too.
God bless you, little buddy. You're on the homestretch now.
That's sad, Thomas.
I sense the obvious repression of emotion in the speakers voice, but then - it makes for an entirely generous memorial for your friend and holds the good times unmarred.
Great write. Excellent control.
I am so sorry you lost your friend this way.
Yes, he is in the homestretch...so many succumb to the bottle and leave the really happy, productive lives they once had.
j.
Thomas W. Case was born in Oxnard. He has published 3 volumes of poetry. The Bullfrog Dreams of Flying, Artichokes, Avocados, and Van Gogh, and Seedy Town Blues. He has won several poetry contests. Hi.. more..