Solo

that I’m to play in less than nine hours in front of three thousand people, the song

that I’ve decided to dedicate to my mom, Uncle Stevie plays some Lenny for inspiration, then explains that most people only know that Lenny wrote it about his mother, but no one knows that she was an actress on a sitcom called The Jeffersons or that one of his bandmates actually played Heineken bottles on the track, which would be a pretty cool story if I hadn’t heard him tell it

a million times.

My dad

jets for the pool and a cig

because

the song

makes him

think

of her.





The song’s a hit! Went for coffee. Break a leg, killer!


I doze off

a few hours later

and wake up

to Rutherford’s red Maserati

making skid marks

down our driveway

and a note

on my mirror.





Graduation Day


From the stage

I see Chapel

blow me a kiss.

I get so lost

in her deep blues

I almost don’t hear

Principal Campbell

introduce

Our salutatorian,

Blade Morrison.





Climbing the Steps to Speak


I throw

my guitar

over my

shoulder and

walk to

center stage

and start

strumming to

loud applause

but I

never get

to sing

because

I realize

they’re not

clapping

for me.





On the biggest stage of my life


in the middle of the most important thing I’ve ever done a woman wearing a black helmet, matching bikini, and nothing else rides a red Harley onto the football field with a man

in the same outfit holding a guitar high above his head screaming

I LOVE ROCK ‘N’ ROLL!

I stare in disbelief and shame

at Chapel

at Principal Campbell at the graduating class egging him on with cheers

and roars

even after

the bike slams into the front of the stage and he gets up steps on

the biker woman then stumbles his way

up the steps to the mic

to me.

Rock and Roll, Blade, my father whispers hugging me

with breath

that smells like the devil’s mouthwash.





My father


has a map

on his body that tells you everything you don’t want to know about him.

A sun on his right shoulder.

A storm cloud with a bolt of lightning on his left.

A blade running down the back of his neck.

Over his heart: STILL HERE.

But, we’re not. Still. Here.

This is the end of the road.

While he bares his wretched self in front of the world I walk off stage to the sound

of his vomiting and cell phones clicking.

I’m not even mad.

I’m just done.

Being here.

Being a Morrison.





Texts from Chapel after Graduation


9:08 pm

I’m sorry I couldn’t be there

to comfort you.

9:08 pm

Parents.

Grandparents.

Graduation dinner.

9:09 pm

My parents made a point NOT to talk about

you or what happened.

9:09 pm

I was sad and on

the verge of tears

the whole time at dinner.

9:10 pm

I kept thinking

about you and how

embarrassed you must be.

9:10 pm

I bet your song

was DOPE though.

Play it for me later?





Hollywood Report


Rock & Roll Royalty has proven yet again that no one knows how to screw up bigger and better than Rutherford Morrison.

Just yesterday, he crashed his son’s graduation ceremony, literally,

drunk driving into the stage

moments before Blade Morrison was to deliver the commencement address. Thankfully, no one was injured,

except the already damaged ego and reputation of his only son.

Rumor has it that Rutherford had been sober for a short period of time, nine days, but who’s counting.

According to reports, he’s headed back to rehab, for the ninth time in as many years, but again who’s counting?

As much as we all still love his music, if rehab doesn’t work, jail or death might be the only fix.





Track 2: When the Lights Go Out


ROCKERS: THE BLACK KEYS / ALBUM: RUBBER FACTORY / LABEL: BLACK POSSUM RECORDS / RECORDING DATE: JANUARY–MAY, 2004 / STUDIO: AN ABANDONED TIRE MANUFACTURING FACTORY IN AKRON, OHIO

I try reading it doesn’t help I try strumming it doesn’t help I try eating it doesn’t help So I just lay here with the lights out listening to The Black Keys.

Staring into the desolation of my brokenness.

Eventually falling into a sea

of dreams

drowning

in the dark deep beneath the place

where dreams have no rules.





Dream Variation: Spin a Song


In the dining room Rutherford

sits

at the opposite end of the Italian marble table.

(Even our dreams are excess.) Atop the table

is a feast

of desserts—my favorites: red velvet Oreos red velvet cupcakes red everything—including a garden of red roses (each with the initial BU

tattooed on them).

Bumpy Umbrella, Rutherford says matter-of-factly, with the sincerest grin aimed at my mother as she swaggers into the room

to the beat

of “All About that Bass”

with a knife

the size of a machete.

She slices a cookie into a millions pieces.

(And doesn’t say a word.) Belly Ulcer, he adds and all of a sudden I feel like

I’ve eaten

every cupcake and cookie in the room

and now I’m gonna throw up.

(She is still silent, slicing.) I turn ashen

as each Oreo crumb turns into

a spider

and crawls

off the table.

Buckle Up, Rutherford says, laughing.

(The dining room is now a hallway or an open field, I can’t tell.)

He’s gone,

his laughter

now morphed into a song

with an infectious rhythm of blues

that’s becomes the soundtrack to a movie

with a chase scene starring yours truly and a big, red spider with a dreadful face gunning straight for me.

(It looks familiar, but I can’t tell.) Run, she whispers and I do

before it bites me or worse.

I run I run away

I run away, fast, I run away, fast, toward—





Hovering


BLADE! BLADE! WAKE UP!

I’m awake. I’M AWAKE. What are you doing, Storm?

Stop shaking me.

Geesh, you’re drenched. Wet dream, huh?

GET AWAY! What time is it?

It’s half past time to get up and stop crying over spoiled milk.

Spilt milk!

Whatever, open these windows and stop whining. He messed up, get over it.

Easy for you to say, he didn’t embarrass you in front of the world.

Uh, yeah he did. I was right there too. It was bad. But it’s not the end of the world.

It’s not the end of your world, Storm. You didn’t get ruined.

He’s our father, for better or for worse.

Why are you so forgiving?

Why are you not? It’s a disease. He needs help.

Yeah, well, tell him that when he gets back from whatever hellhole he’s in.

He’s back.

Great. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need some privacy.

Next time, knock.

Next time, don’t scream, DON’T KILL ME, PLEASE!

What are you talking about? It was a nightmare.

What was it—fire, a cliff, a gun to the head?

It was nothing.

Still, I wanna know.

It’s the same dream I’ve been having, Storm, but this time, Mom was in it.

Well, now I’m intrigued, little brother.

It was ridiculous.

Get on with it, this room smells like sautéed cat pee.

. . . .





Texts from Chapel


11:45 am

I couldn’t stop

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