Skeleton Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

We are perhaps the golden hills
Old men and the sea
Our being rising with the sun
We are succinct prose
I diminish without you
Wharves where rocks smile
Low tide brings the shells
The ugly American
I await the clarion Faulkner
Fog like a rock on your shoulder

Night light in the Spanish red
She is the bell tolling
She is Goya and prophecy
Train with smoke of Franco
Those that withdraw are straw
Hills of blue candelas
Joyce writes like Homer
Dragons tale like the state
We take off our uniforms
Some will always fly flags

His father shot himself
Key West and bravado
Havana with stars like Batista
Cigars and thoughts of bull fights
Paris and Gertrude Stein
Four wives
Airplane crash
Alcohol and writers block
Pain and the serpent of despair
Idaho and a shot gun blast

The great fish is a skeleton