Solo

about the shattered glass

that is my life

about the tiny shards

cutting into

Blade.





The City of Palms


I have taken for granted

the palm trees in Cali

brought in

from somewhere else

planted by Spanish missionaries

in the 18th century.

We have something

in common.

They don’t belong here.

And neither do I.

Yet they stand.

How will I?





On the taxi ride home


I think

about the things I should have said to him

and wonder if I’ll ever see her

again.

Maybe I’ve been crying too much

or thinking too much about drinking this bottle of Malibu

I took from Rutherford, but I don’t want to end up

like him,

especially since I’m not

his.

When we get to the bridge, for a split second I imagine

leaping over and falling to the bottom and never being found or heard from or seen again.

Would it matter if I were gone?

Who would care about this son of no one?

Change of plans, I say to the driver. Take me to Santa Monica, please.





Perspective


I watch Robert

hold a small

audience captive

with “Mean Old World,”

which ain’t nothing

but the truth

for me

right now.

I nod at him.

He smiles, and

after he’s done playing,

waves me over.

Where’s your other half? he asks.

I’m overwhelmed, Robert.

With gloom. She’s gone, like ashes over bridge.

He wipes down

his trumpet

and shakes

his head.

You weren’t ready for her or she wasn’t ready for you?

Her father wasn’t ready for us. He ended it.

Put yourself in his shoes, what would you have done?

I’d trust my kid to know what was good for her. It sucks.

Sorry, Youngblood.

There’s something else.

I know. Written all over your face.

I don’t even know how to say it.

Spoonful at a time.

Turns out, I’m adopted.

It’s like a freight train runnin’ up all through your life.

It sucks.

That’s one way of looking at it.

THAT’S THE ONLY WAY.

Some people don’t even get one parent, you got four.

Yeah, but two of ’em gave me away, one of ’em doesn’t care about me, and one of ’em’s dead.

If the blues was cash, you’d be the richest Youngblood in town, he says, laughing.

Not the time for jokes, Robert. This isn’t funny.

I climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro once, he answers.

Huh?

Yep, with a friend. It took seven days.

Okay! Thanks for sharing.

Life is a mountain, Youngblood. Nobody said the climb was gonna be easy.

You gotta choose your route.

Get your gear.

Breathe.

Clear your mind.

And enjoy the journey.

Robert, what are you talking about?

Perhaps you need a break from the Angels. Get outta LA, get some perspective. You understand?

. . . .

Give her father some time, he might come around.

You think so?

The Creator has a master plan. Y’all were meant to be, you’ll be. Can’t nobody stop that.

. . . .

That’s a whopper of some news about your birth parents.

I feel for ya. I do know this, though. There’s a lot of love around you, but if you don’t see it, it’s not there. Go climb your mountain, see things from the top. Find out the answers you need, seek what’s really important.

Chapel. She’s what’s important.

If she’s meant to shine in your life, so be it, he says, hugging me, then handing me a guitar from out of nowhere, like we’re saying goodbye, and he’s been expecting this all along.

Let’s play one for the road, Youngblood.





I’ve known the rules


since I could smell the vodka

on his breath drown in its rancor.

I know, when it hits the fan, to: Avoid all stores with newsstands.

Don’t watch any entertainment shows, and stay away from social media because

your family

is a trending topic and the world laughs.





So I drive


the Sunset Strip in search of a guitar shop to buy a new strap and try to clear my head.

But there with a camera pointed like a gun to my face

is a paparazzo shouting,

How does it feel to know

you’re not the heir to rock and roll royalty?





It feels


like countless mirrors

crashing around me

in an empty space

where there’s

no way in

and no way out.





Day 1


I will never leave

this bedroom again.

I stare at the walls.

The ugly, empty space

imprisons me.

There is nothing

left for me

if she’s gone.

A bare, unspoken

language that has

no words, no gestures—

a song

of sinking silence.

I’ve texted her

thirteen times.





All the Songs That Make Me Think of You


For What It’s Worth

Gold Dust Woman

You Shook Me All Night Long Tangled Up in Blue

Dreams I’ll Never See The Story in Your Eyes Oh! Darling

Wish You Were Here

Where the Streets Have No Name The Sky Is Falling

While My Guitar Gently Weeps Who’ll Stop the Rain?





Day 2


What is this blood coursing through my veins?

It’s not Morrison.

It’s a red river

of who the hell am I.

Yesterday I was the son of a narcissist,

but at least I knew . . .

Today it could be anyone of the seven-plus billion freaks and strangers who could give

two craps about me.

Why am I even here?

Eat your food.

Freakin’ A, Storm! COULD YOU PLEASE LEAVE ME

ALONE!

You must eat, she says, from the other side of the door.

. . . .

Your life may seem like a mystery right now, but you’re still here.

MYSTERY? TRY MISERY. I’M NOT FEEDING

THAT MONSTER.





Day 3


I open the door.

Grab the tray

of bread and pasta pushed against the wall.

The smell of goodness offends me.

Probably takeout, ’cause Storm can’t cook.

I remember Mom

taking me to

our favorite diner in Thousand Oaks for their homemade rolls and honey.

She called me her sweet boy, her precious one.

If she were here . . .

I could ask her why she used to say, You can’t live on bread and love alone.

But the real question is how can I possibly live without her?

How can any of us?





Dream Variation: Soul on Fire


The dining room is a field

of fire

and I dash

and thrash

my way

through the flames with a big, red spider with a dreadful face on my heels.

(It looks familiar, but I can’t tell.) Run, Mom whispers.

So I do

I run

I run away

I run away, fast, I run away, fast, toward I run away, fast, toward the end.

There’s an end.

And there’s my mother.

And If I can get to her everything will make sense.

I can breathe.

I’ll be saved.

But I never get to her, and right before my soul catches on fire

I wake up.





Funny


how your questions

never get answered

in dreams

like you’re a ghost

floating

and trapped

in your own mind.





Day 4


Who are they?

Why didn’t I matter enough

or at all?

How do you give up

on your own

flesh,

your own blood,

the bones you made?

How?





Storm knocks


like she’s pounding a drum.

You alive? Unlock the door.

I walk over to my dresser.

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