SONG FOR NEAL CASSADY, BY CHARLES PLYMELL
–For John Cassady
Oh really really Neal
his first love was the automobile
Drove a ‘34 Ford with suicide doors
and stick shift on the floor
Draggin’ down main to Colfax Avenue
Jumpin’ in the back seat boulevard
kicked back watching asses in the rearview
cruising past the high school
Clock on the dash reading 10:18
past the neon diner
last stop for Benzedrine
and onward to another scene
Chicks would rob a joint
just to buy him food
One hand on the wheel
the other in her mood
The blue-eyed kid and the wild-eyed bobby soxer
California surfers Tarot card sharks and word shooters
Found Ann-Marie in Frisco like a hurricane cock
didn’t need the Sexual Freedom League
Driving with white pills and pot
but was really addicted to the wheel
Came back to Old San Francisco
Flower children all over the streets
Carried star struck Ann-Marie in his arms
the Denver Kid he never returns
Traded her Chevrolet coupé
for an old Pontiac
Up the hills, down the curves
gear it down, pump the brakes
Old mother Ginsberg’s back seat drivin’
turning toward the Avalon
Driving
down Van Ness jumping parking meters
One hand on the gearshift
the other copping a feel
One hand up her dress
the other on the wheel
Stole a car in Denver just to hear it peel
just like drivin’ in the races
Stole a car in Denver just to hear it squeal
He moved so fast
he had one foot in Cincinnati the other in Kalamazoo
Women knew just what to do
and all wanted him to be true
Parked in front of Gough Street
in a 50’s red and white Plymouth Fury
Just back from seeing Kerouac, in a hurry
patrol car in the mirror
the old white and blacks
Drove past someone with some little white pills
heading into town
He jumped in the driver’s seat
and spun that Fury around.
The roads were paved with powder all the way to Mexico
and train tracks shined in the moon
Did hard time for two reefers
and came out smokin’ some boo
First Road Warrior
never knew what he did wrong
CHARLES PLYMELL
– from SOME MOTHER’S SON
PARIS POETRY 