Ode to My Brother
Half-drunk upon the
chipped white hood of our
toasting the lowdown Milky Way,
Since no one understands me but my brother.
that we would never fade away,
Never burn out, unless I grow false to thee.
down to that white car: "The Wildwood Flower"
Smeared all around my crown of sin like a sea
off the past, thrown down like a Nine. My brother
Grown false like Bibles and an illustration
to the grain of ancient women, charcoal
sharkskin shirts, the underground nation
Of wandering boys, stars dropped from mirror and bowl,
meteorites, the deep pool hall confusion
bouncer, the old South Jersey roll.