A.G.E's Joint

Return address 62 Blvd de St Germain A two-word message. "Venez vite." What does she need this time? Waiter brings Bordeaux. Chateaux he had never heard of. Satisfying pop Sweet cork Car horn out on Royal Why Paris or Rome?  New Orleans had better people. Shrugging shoulders, he turned the page over. A shorter message "Crepa" -Venez vite-"Come at once" en Français Crepa-"Drop dead" en Italiano

  So much stuff Collecting dust Celebrate as A collection. Piles in groups, And heaps. And leaps In my mind Can I run away From the detritus Around my space And simplify? Chances are I'll be 99 miles From L.A. Ignoring the sage advice.

Broken down buildings and junkies filled this part of Moreland Ave, one whose heyday was far in the past. A faded PBR sign became animated, beckoning him to stop. Have a drink and  forget your problems. Maybe pick up an American Woman for company. That was a lie. There would be no sugar tonight. Waking up with a headache didn’t interest him. Sarah was still dead.  A gold Cadillac with a sticker saying “In Memory of Darius, 1997-2008  was in front of him. Maybe he should put one of those on his car for Sarah? No. Can’t have the attention. He drove an anonymous metal lump. He tugged at his collar. God, it was hot. He shouldn’t have worn long sleeves. He flipped on the radio and rolled down his window . A song came on about being fine or closer to it. Another total lie. Nothing was ever fine. Mother’s whisky tinged voice began yelling in his ear. Talk to the lady. What she had to say may be bullshit, but validation and clarity in how to proceed was needed.  Nah. He was sort of responsible

  Life is funny until it isn't.  It seemed like yesterday Barry, Mark, Sam, and him were the Putzietones, at your service for Proms, Weddings, and Bars. They had started in Mark’s garage as an excuse to drink. One thing led to another and they found they played well together. Fun days or at least most of them were. The gigs paid for gas and some ass. Great when you didn't have responsibilities. About the time the record company noticed, life intervened.  Mary got pregnant and she and Sam got married. Mark got bored with it all and went back to school. That left Barry and him and the sketchy contract they had signed. They recruited a couple of people to take up the slack and finish up the work. After a year the band was another tombstone in the graveyard of broken dreams. Barry was lost without having an audience. He pissed off family and friends with his drunken antics. After one girlfriend kicked him out after a DUI, he found himself in a trailer outside of town. He missed a s