Memoir (for Bill)

This is the season for death
my friends, a murderous
glint has spread over
the face of the nation.

He was an emerging writer,
a student, an avid surfer,
a real good guy,
a singing gondolier
for Christ’s sake,
and when they
tried to take his
bike one night
after work, well
yeah, he resisted
so these little
bastards pumped
him full of lead.

The last time I saw him
was at a poetry reading
in Long Beach. We
sat beside each other
and talked shop.
Now, just a short time
later, I watched his mates
float his board into the
water and now his body
is truly riding the waves
he so dearly loved.

Look, I know here in
America he was just one
of many and hearts
grieve everywhere, but
who gave us the right,
I want to know? Why,
after all the bullshit,
do we still allow the lives
we love to be destroyed
so very thoroughly?