it never would have worked out.
growing up for you was getting things set,
working it out,
and for me it was blasting off and blowing apart.
I'm glad I got to see you on the way in
and dream with you
even for a minute
in the stratosphere.
I hear you are doing quite well.
have ended up in a house on the hill,
and drive the best cars.
are happy with your accomplishments.
I always knew you would be.
I have a banjo left.
everything else was burned up on reentry.
but what a ride.
somewhere out there has been
the penthouse at the marriott in warsaw,
a week later buying dope in a ditch in krakow,
surfing with Hawaiians,
fighting skinheads,
the sweetest loves,
most bitter disappointments,
texas ice houses,
arizona moons,
a new york that noone has ever seen
from a double decker bus
or the shops on the avenues in manhattan.
the anals of mexico,
the stars over black rock city.
vegas from every perspective.
all from
my ship
circling stars.
dodging comets.
floating.
so much time alone
in the weightless void.
the last girl
is coming,
she came out to get me back
from my journey
across the great divide.
I'll see you when I land I'm sure.
but I was thinking of you
as I came back to earth just now
and passed the spot
where we first met
twenty years gone by
it still shines
with dreamers dust
and lovers light.