Since long ago, for many years,
I’ve loved drinking alone and listening to Tommy growl
or sing falsetto or kick a can or caress a piano.
Whatever the sentiment,
I’m never alone when Tommy’s around.
I’m never stir crazy or stuck when Tommy’s pounding through the speakers.
Actually we’ve sailed for Singapore together and hung out as ghosts on Hennepin.
It’s funny and great how you can know someone so well without ever having met.
It’s funny how you could pass your hero on the street and you’d be just another face.
Or would he see in you something familiar? An understanding?
Would he recognize a friend?
Would he remember all the nights we got drunk and traded stories?
Or the times we’ve road tripped to Burma Shave or tangoed till they were sore?