all those years ago today
on your birthday we
took all the pills and
went and saw the Doors
at the Hollywood Bowl
with Morrison screaming
so beautiful man we never
even wrote a poem about it
but so what who thought it
would mean anything
and it really doesn't
because it was ceremony
and we were there as
unkempt literati with a
Small Press literary magazine
ready to come out on mimeo
which didn't really mean shit
to a tree but so anyhow my bro
I am thinking of you again
on this another summer night
all these years away from
the words we once thought were
as unstoppable as an iron lung
in a breezy field of butterflies