Delicate and boundless…
Delicate and boundless.. Marianne found me drinking alone by the Texas river. I was drinking the Black Velvet whiskey at noon and writing old-man poetry. She took my journal and she read my… Continue reading
Delicate and boundless.. Marianne found me drinking alone by the Texas river. I was drinking the Black Velvet whiskey at noon and writing old-man poetry. She took my journal and she read my… Continue reading
Ghosts, nightmares and dead ends… One— I ordered one more Bloody Mary from my one arm bartender. He is the best bartender in Texas. His drinks, like ambrosia for the sleeping mind. I… Continue reading
Haunt me… I found her again at the hard metal club in Austin and she was dressed in her black skirt and her favorite black blouse. I stay at a distance and I… Continue reading
The daylight fading…. Once the most kindest woman in Texas weaved me a safe place to be. Dearest Jayne use to hold me tightly and she sang songs of love to me late… Continue reading
Two out of three, ain’t bad. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Lonely are the people who wasted love and friendship. (Johnnie in Monterey in 1991) Two out of three ain’t bad…. I was sitting… Continue reading
Hell-bound I am and the whiskey tasting better…. Once saintly man found sin, whiskey and the drinking songs. He and Hank William Jr. sing nightly in Belton, Texas together. The one-handed bartender make… Continue reading
Maybe yes, maybe no?… I been hiding in the highway 35 taverns for three months. Started drinking early in the morning and writing till darkness, the happy hours blues poetry. Once I was… Continue reading
The parable of the flowers and the lovelorn man… She was a perfect beauty. She danced nightly on a stage in Killeen, Texas. I went nightly and I waited for my tainted beauty… Continue reading
The chess game… I drove to Austin, Texas today. I like to get to Austin early. Find some good parking and roam the city. The old city had everything. Good bars, pretty woman… Continue reading
The poet wisp… The pretty Texas gal asked me. You are here every Friday and Saturday morning by the Austin River sitting alone. Reading your books and writing into your journal. You read… Continue reading