REMEMBERING JAMES DEAN

 

 

Dark clouds at dawn
beyond the ridgeline,
light rain upon the roof—

one white bullet hole
of light up canyon
looking down

searching for truth
while I drink coffee
craving a cigarette,

wanting to inhale
the damp morning
into my flesh

mixed with smoke
to spin my head
one more time.

Too old to be cool,
I chew
Nicorette instead.

 

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