those really were

Wintery blasts found me covered in cardboard-
Plastic, too, if I was lucky
And jimi said
‘and the wind cried …mary’
I’m a Mary
A secret out of spite.

Goodwill chic being the order of the day
Even my boots from a dead soldier
Were high stylin
And if I was low Janis said
‘cry..cry, baby!!!’
I did some nights.

Communes at Wesleyan,Boston U,
and Georgetown were bedrooms
and the Connecticut, and the James
and the Potomac our tubs
and Jim said ‘this is the end my friend’
(when he died we knew Nietschze was right)

I was angry; I was ecstatic
I was hungry inside and out
I never walked- I strolled or I strode
And then Paul died, and George sang
Here comes the sun
The rumors took flight.

I had nothing but all the answers
And my four-hose water pipe
Now I have anything I want
Except
‘those were the days, my friend
we thought they’d never end’
Mary was right.