She’s crazy.

She’s crazy.

She dance alone on the Monterey pier and she doesn’t give a damn who is looking.

She is the prettiest gal in Monterey, and she don’t like pretty words.

She told me often. Johnnie, we are running away from memories

and sometimes we are running to the old memories.

We are running to better days, trying to escape the naysayers.

We are trying to catch old memories, and we are trying to remember beautiful faces and beautiful places. We miss the kisses; we miss the gentle embraces.

We whine a lot, we cry a lot.

And we get what we deserve.

When Winter is near. We know the loneliness. It is a sickness Johnnie.

I told her she is crazy. I told her she is crazy beautiful.

You are a Winter storm, who fear no-one, who fear nothing except love.

You need everything and you want more and more.

You and I.

Just foolish dancer on the dangerous sea of life.

She laughed at my words and she told me.

Dark Monterey poet. You are my only friend.

You like me, as is.

Please let’s buy some Gentleman Jack and find the Gypsies.

Time to sing and yell to the Goddess of the sea.

We want no-more.

Maybe you can take me to Big Sur in the morning.

Me and you can watch the morning sun rise and know some peace.

I told her. Your wish is my command. I love my wild gal to know peace and calm.

I need Big Sur too.

Dancing Coyote