My Friend Billy
I see him clear, tears in his eyes. Laffing how he outraced cops across Arizona deserts...
65
Going on death,
Woke to a frozen world
Where no car crept.
A day no singing bird
Was left alive.
A day another friend
Sighed his last breath.
Polar vortex
Blew thru my trailer.
I wrapped windows in blankets,
Sealed the entries to my life
A bunker in war.
Cranked the oven,
Cracked its door…
Stale air hung like failure.
Settled in for a day alone.
Picked up the phone,
My only open door…
Splashed across its screen
Wars, rumors of wars,
Disasters revealed,
Disasters concealed…
A dying world’s dreams.
I read the news —
Tanker Spews Fuel…
A Politician Lies…
Then —
“Local Man Dies.”
Wind froze my heart.
Another sun sets
That’ll never rise…
Another friend gone
Where I can’t hear his cries…
Billy…
I wish I were that poet…
Say, Yeats’ sweet voice
Or at least L. Cohen…
Raised in bitter rejoice
To toast your life of rough edges.
But I see you clear —
Tears in your eyes…
Laffing…
How you outraced cops
Across Arizona deserts…
Or burnt a scumbag dealer…
Or how your kid came to be born…
Crying…
About that woman you loved…
Those kids you missed seeing…
Locked in your room
Picking at scabs…
Dying…
One bottle at a time.
He lived for love…
He lived for laughs.
He left little more
Than a church full of folks
Who missed him for an hour.
He was Billy.
And now years later…
He won’t leave my autistic mind
And still laffs in my autistic heart
Teaching it to praise.
Click to return to the complete poetry collection, “every clock is a handgun pointed at my head — Songs of Autistic Innocence …and Experience.”
▶️Previously published as “My Friend Billy: A New Epic Myth” with discussion and accompanying artwork.