Friday Poem

“Hey Mr. Tambourine man play a song for me,
in the jingle jangle mornin’ I’ll come following you.”
-Bob Dylan

American Myth
Jim Bell

i flew out of bradley snow
sick & so tired of lawyers rocked

back over erie’s shivering green
gunk saw the fat fingered river that cuts

down american belly coasts of nebraska
chalk dust plains & jagged white slung

rocky & sierra nevada mountains
this land that rolls
west in one giant gulp that slides

into frisco at the end of a thumb I pissed
in kerouac alley opened my door

painted nothing black my limits were
new to me I watched the dead drug

eyes on telegraph & let berkeley become
my jingle jangle morning dropping

back in the musty church basement in dolores
barrio where a skinny girl with green hair &

pierced eyebrows named dragon asked
me to read the promises