Old man Cowell and boy Ted,
Hardcore and alcohol
unlocked doors in his head.
Midnight’s rage held a speculum,
every one of them became Brooks.
Two escapes and from
a sling, cast or uniform
one beetle shell thinned
apartment and dorm.
Swung and dumped on both coasts,
Dipped a hand in the green river,
and lost count of his ghosts.
Paid part of his debt on a Florida chair.
Rode the Lightning to eternity.
Consumed by what awaited him there.
Copyright © rob carmack | Year Posted 2015