Shooting Pool With Charlie Parker On

  • December 26, 2005
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  • . She'll be home at 7 & I'm stranded on the freeway (express lane) about to punch it through this metal snake if someone doesn't move, no one knows where I'm going. I could be on my way to somewhere other than home. I might drift down to Harper St. & buy a bootleg copy of Miles or Coltrane. They say he blew hardest when he knew the end was near. Why wait until the last minute, to really take a chance? Billy writes about fishing like it's something spiritual, but he doesn't know where I'm heading. I could get out right now and walk exactly 1 mile to the nearest liquor store and share a fifth with Terrance, as he tells me what he regrets the most, becoming more and more personal as the bottle becomes more and more empty. Before he questions, Where are you going? I could take this exit to Jackson St. and eat a cheeseburger while watching the brothers shoot hoop across the street. Paul says they raised the price of dreams, and I nod along as I shove in more fries than required. I could park sideways on the lawn and show up, belly full, late as usual. Maybe standing in the doorway, I will wonder if I have wasted my life, as she looks me over, and then looks away. No doubt wondering, Where have I been? .
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