Sketchbook  A. D. Winans, US

 

Free Verse How I Want to be Remembered Play me some Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash Toast me with some sour mash Have six young girls do a dance One hooker in leather vest and pants Carry my ashes to the top of Mount TAM* with a lone Monk trailing behind. Strawberries and champagne served at sunset No open bar But free to all Irish whiskey tequila vodka and champagne served by a French lass with a saucy ass Set up speakers on each side of the hill Play some poetry of Kaufman and Micheline Blast some Dylan to the birds flying overhead Stir the juices in the living dead Put a shot glass in the box carrying my ashes A pen and a sheet of blank paper No flowers no tears Just that lone monk doing a Buddhist chant Let the sunset be my headstone My poems my marker   *Mount Tamalpais known locally as "Mount Tam") is the higest peak in the Marin Hills, Marin County, California, USA, often considered symbolic of Marin County. Mount Tamalpais, the highest peak in the Marin Hills, is part of the Northern California Coast Ranges. The elevation at the East Peak, its highest point, is 2,571 feet (784 meters).

 

God's Don't Cry He was a leper An angel A barbarian. He had shark's teeth That drew blood from Friends and foes alike. He was a shot of whiskey A fine Cuban cigar A rattlesnake without A warning system. He was a shaman A witch doctor A tout A long shot in a fixed race. He was a hit man Leaving a trail of blood behind As his signature card. He was a geek A bully boy A butterfly A moth courting A light bulb. He was a hustler A con artist A defrocked priest Wallking the streets of L.A. Looking for absolution. He was a shyster A magician A clown with the best Act in town. He was the Pied Piper Of Los Angeles With a bevy of female vampires Following him to hell. He was the King of San Pedro A Hollywood cult hero Who never understood the Meaning of zero. His boasted conquests Put Don Juan to shame Staking out his territory Like a seasoned alley cat. He was the undisputed champion Of the small press world Taking on all comers Ready to win at all costs Be it by a KO or a low blow. And he cried in the shower But God's don't cry Or do they?

 

Poem For The Old Man I tried to picture him battling leukemia but still managing just 20 days before his death to send a poem to Wormwood Review filled with life right up to the end perhaps a wry smile on his face for the doctor and a hand on the ass of the nurse playing out the game to the end like only the old man was capable of doing