BADGE by CREAM. Poem by Craig Kirchner.

Baltimore, late 1960s.

Fitz

I’m reading about an outbreak of laughter,

that broke out at a girl’s school,

ended up involving the whole town,

and lasted more than a month.
 

Thinkin’ ‘bout the times you drove in my car
 

There were Freudian explanations:

defining that laughing, like crying,

often takes place without our conscious selves,

knowing anything about the motivation.
 

Thinkin’ that I might have drove you too far
 

The most spectacular laugh I remember,

came from a friend who didn’t laugh much,

but when he did it was electric,

you were glad you were in the room, or the car.
 

And I’m thinkin’ ‘bout the love that you laid on the table
 

Junior year, high school,

and I’m the driver.

A death trap Falcon with small jets

that threw water on the windshield –
 
turned toward the curb,

and a hard push on an air ball bubble,

squirted people on the sidewalk

or the car next to you.
 

I told you not to wander ‘round in the dark
 

It’s Elf, and me,

Fitz and Bernie in the back seat.

We spatter an old guy,

looked like a real grump,

and a group of younger guys

waiting with him for the bus,

absolutely fell out, roaring,

the same instant we did.
 

I told you ‘bout the swans, that they live in the park
 

Fitz laughed so hard he was crying,

it was infectious,

it always was with Fitz,

we laughed all the way to school.
 

Then I told you ‘bout our kid, now he’s married to Mabel
 

I started again in homeroom,

and was sent to the office.

Bernie and Fitz have passed,

but when I think about laughing, real laughing,
 

I envision a bar in the clouds, Clapton on the juke,

Fitz is sitting with two shots of Crown Royal,

he smiles – with a W.C. Fields impersonation,

goes right into ‘remember the time’.
 
Before they bring the curtain down,
Yes, before they bring the curtain down.

 
 
Stereo Story #795