A hard way to go – foto Smith
Here’s Mark Weber’s 1989 unflattering poem on me as a drunk. I drank myself to death less than 2 years after this, woke up in intensive care. Sober since.
Junk It, Kick It, Spit On It (for Steven B. Smith)
I don’t think there was
anybody in the Tremont bar last night
that didn’t relate
to what you were going thru
we’re concerned, but yeah
go head on
kick the shit out of everything
burn all the money
and the papers
in your wallet
break every glass you drank out of
kiss everybody
roll on the floor
bark like a dog
throw chairs
pronounce: “I’m not sure this
is worth selling out for”
sleep on the bar next to your wine
tie Amy Sparks’ shoe laces together
ask the microphone if yr a democrat
or a republican
stand there teetering
leering
drunker than drunk
how in the fuck did you
ever get home
last night
anyway?
— Mark Weber, 1989
Coulda been me – foto Smith
Holy smokes! what a tribute to the past. Thank you for going sober… this way i’ve had the chance to meet you, know you and enjoy your wry wit and wisdom. ‘Cause otherwise you might not be here now….
and being here now is what you seem to have been able to learn to do.
I honor your unvarnished take on the past…. not everyone can be so honest. I think that is the one quality I admire most…. aside from your wonderful whimsy.
🙂