Bending Buick’s


morning translation,
light has a language
that breathes
it stretches shadows
burns across carpets
bends buicks in shop windows
and lights faye wrays face,
my own portion
a partition of day
comes as townes van sings,
i smoke what i rolled
drink what i poured
fragments glitter skitterish
off the glass,
diamonds to the day
abstract punctuation to my thoughts
i think of voices
carried on this light
marching along on lung feet
into my mind
and everyone sounds like scott,
even james garner in his multicolored
mac concealing all of my yesterdays
and his genuine concern,
i need a buick to drive
to see if i can find
him my morning connector
that friend of early light
who now is silent
yet converses in my mind

scott wannberg

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Remembering Scott Wannberg a brilliant and talented writer who was a part of my world briefly but made an impression today would of his birthday and i remember

7 thoughts on “Bending Buick’s

  1. You told a story with such beautiful lyrics that I can hear it singing in my mind. The light image is awesome! I like Town Van Zant. Sorry if you lost a friend of early light. It is a nice tribute.

    Like

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