Rip Neal - Poem by A.j. Binash
Neal was high on speed. Off his tongue rolled spontaneous prose. Jack documented each word. Leaving each line to chance like a jazz band indulging new chords-
Neal was high on speed. Pummeling his biceps with closed fists. Keeping the beat of life. An apeman swinging off the vines of the concrete jungle-
And Neal said "I am Dean"
And Jack said "No. You're a legend"
Off went Neal. High on speed. Counting the railroad tracks beneath his footsteps. Struggling through the ice rain to find the next town. He never got there-
And Jack wept over his grave
Producing enough water
To grow wild roses
As wild as the men
Who discovered the west
A year later-Jack buried himself in blood
Comments about Rip Neal by A.j. Binash
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You