i heard when johnny cash died
that dylan said he was
the north star
that you could guide your
ship by
i remember you shifting
thru the gears of
yr midnight green
65 chevelle
mickey thompson mags
on the way to mugs up
to see yr best girl
and how you always
did the right thing
playing it safe
never taking risks
never going head on
into that goodnight
i remember how
multiple wives
& roommates each
altered your dna
just enough
before
cleaning you out
how each one chipped
away at you
until
there was only dust
i can tell you
it was good weather
for a funeral
the sun
too embarrassed
to show its face
but it is
never a good day
except for those
that cashed in
and stood
graveside
blank faced
with hands in their pockets
and you know
that girl from mugs up
was the only one to speak
when asked for comments
she broke the quiet awkwardness
said you had the best smile
and stopped left it at that
but i knew there was more
that wasn't said
hiding behind sunglasses
and fighting tears
i remembered the way
you laughed the most
walking to the car
when everyone
promised to keep
in touch
i repeated
in my head
hoping you could hear
growing up
you
were my
johnny cash
greg
got
addicted
to
methadone
after
he
lied
about
being
hooked
on
heroin
the
clinic
gave
it
away
daily
on
fridays
you
got
a
weekend
supply
he'd
shoot
it
up
right
there
sitting
in
his
mom's
98
nodding
off
like
death
dragging
a
crippled
foot
outside
an
old
woman
pulled
a
grocery
cart
up
the
paseo
like
he
wasn't
even
there
Scot Young herds goats on an Ozark ridge top farm with the woman of his dreams. He is the editor at the Rusty Truck and is widely published both online and in print.