XO

it's been 5 years
now
since Elliott's
passing

there's still much talk about his
                                                demise
and there's much ruckus amongst the
heirs
royalties and what not

and amidst all of that
the little indie kids
still go CALI for pilgrimages
to light candles and to
weep

I dont like to think about Elliott that way
instead
i prefer that dream i once had
of him in a tiny studio;

                                             creating

there's a guitar, a banjo and maybe a
harmonica
and there is the smell,
the scent of the moment
like the rich scent of earth and the static in the air
moments prior to the storm
pounding

the pounding took to him

i despised his early self imposed exit  
               but
i couldn't never bring myself to hate him
for it
he was too human
and as humans often go; our
defenses
are rarely stern
against this never ending math equation

though i too wish to go on
a pilgrimage to
old and troubled CALI
though i too do weep

i still would rather spend
these moments
with the image of Elliott
in that tiny studio;

                                             creating

with his guitar, his banjo and maybe a
harmonica