SnapshotA Poem by Thomas W CaseMy books are available on Amazon, and here's a link to my YouTube channel where I do readings. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cNzeVyF51OgThe abandoned house smelled like a garbage dump. There were holes in the floor and pipes exposed. The cheap wine tasted like regret and shame. Bozo was there, sleeping in a heap in the corner of the living room. He looked like that clown from the old cartoons, wild red hair sticking out at the sides of his head. The floorboards creaked. Any minute, I expected them to break, landing me in the basement, or hell, or the abyss of degradation. I hopped over one of the holes and found my way through the dark, to Bozo. I shook his dirty army coat. “Bozo, wake the hell up. I got a bottle of wine.” He said, “Either I’m dreaming, or it’s Christmas, or you’re an angel.” He sat up and smiled, a toothless grin. We each lit a half-crushed cigarette and touched the flame to a small candle made out of a beer can. Bozo had a little portable radio. He put it on low to an old jazz channel. Coltrane was burning those amber notes into our little shack while we talked about life, death, Van Gogh, and what the hell we were gonna do to blur the memories. We snuffed out our cigarettes. Bozo threw me a dirty old blanket, hard and crusty from years with bums. We finished the sweet, bitter wine and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of cattails, summer ponds, and better years.
© 2026 Thomas W CaseAuthor's Note
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4 Reviews Added on April 27, 2026 Last Updated on April 27, 2026 AuthorThomas W CaseClear Lake, IAAboutThomas 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.. |


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