Poetry

---

FRENCH FRIED

He has French Fried friendships
And writes poems without stanzas
He lives the worst of nightmare trips
He listens for the music of mad dancers

He goes on unnamed streets and boulevards
He travels light and seldom bites
He moves easy and stays out of strange backyards
He lights candles then gets out of sight

Everyone he comes across is always lost
And there’s all those ships passing in the night
Without trying, he gathers no moss
He stays loose when others are quite uptight

Memories and dreams have been surrendered
Honor and grace he can no longer find
Wondering why he still seeks the tired and tender
He hopes at least they will say that he was kind.
4/7/02 RED Desperado

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE