In memory of Tom “Bones” Miquel

I wrote this poem about the Slope last year. My friend Tom “Bones” Miquel recently passed, so sadly I wanted to put this poem (please excuse word press screwing up my format) up on the ol’ blog in his honor. He left us way too soon.

Slope

“I’m not much for gossiping, but I do like to talk shit.”

The Slope Opera’s in full swing so-and-so is coming

out in full lesbian fashion. So-and-so’s shift missing

got them expelled from the Food Co-op. No more

fresh greens, crowded shelves, long communist lines.

Walking along 7th Avenue, Bones, a bearded tough

motorcycle guy, drives by in his little pink Barbie

car while stroller moms saunter and stare hogging up

the sidewalk. Dogs stop and sniff Marty’s restaurant,

La Taqueria, with its psychedelic murals and burly

bean burritos, but pass on by pulling to Prospect Park

to bound around off leash and swim at dog beach

(which is really just the edge of a lake). I walk on

to browse the crowded shelves of the Community

Bookstore. I step over the two old dogs sleeping

by the new release hardcovers and head to the poetry

section. Run my fingers along the colorful spines,

huff the dust and ink and all the musty spent sweat

of the writers who’ve gone before me. I search to see

who I’ll be sandwiched between when it’s my time

up on that wall with all the language queens and kings.

Beside me to one side perhaps orphan Corso bopping

with the Beats, The Bridge of Hart Crane, and old ee

in all his eccentric glory. To the right this tenderness

comes from Mark Doty, Rita Dove’s smart line struts

on by Denise Duhamel’s sassy sestinas. All of us up

there together getting dusty on the shelf pressed tight

together our slick, sharp corners softening with time.

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Filed under Poetry, Spirituality, Writing

One response to “In memory of Tom “Bones” Miquel

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