Dedicated to Jeff Pond, Who Took the Freebird Route

There is, of course, a story behind this, but it is long and unhappy and I won't go into it here. This poem appeared in the GSU Review, and thus, is my only oficially published piece.


Dedicated to Jeff Pond, Who Took the Freebird Route

Guitar riff sounds across soft summer night.
Johnny Van Zandt reaching out across water
For one last ride.
Lift a glass to his memory,
And toss the beer bottle behind you
Before opening another.
Talk is low, measured,
Keeping time with the crickets,
And the drinking,
And that freebird bass,
Thumpin’ out rhythm
For good ol’ boy blues;
Where all that matters
Is the beer in your hand
And the girl beside you
Who’ll be what you want,
And burnin’ out before you get old;
Before you are one more redneck never-was,
Used up on the assembly line beer-joint
Circle, spinnin’ round and round
Without goin’ nowhere.
Drink to that guitar run
Runnin’ for freedom, freebird, escape,
Risin’ to crescendo before that final
Grand slam.