For Nick Tosches (Oct. 1949-Oct. 2019)

Singed words
on whiskey soaked page
ashes, the perennial ashes
taking refuge, mingling
in the
Remington keys
Cold draft
from the unholy treeless void
Bedford & Commerce
Cold, he felt
no longer shall he live
in “what used to be called New York”
… And out he rushed
with “Sticky Fingers”
Never to look back

© 2019 Farid Mashhadi. All rights reserved.