THE VOYAGER

My mind is still a voyager.
It takes me to L.A.
I have friends there.
I dream of Mulholland Drive.
And the Whiskey-A-Go-Go.
I packed up and A-Went-Went.
I'm off to sparkle town.
I sit in jazz bars.
The music is not the same.
Somehow it's different.
The blue haze is gone.
There's no ash trays on the bar.
Now the cats who "blow" are much too young.
My whiskey has been replaced.
Now I stare into seltzer water.
At least the pretzels are still stale.
My life has been diluted.
Watered down.
I want to dig the scene.
But I have been mis-cast.
I'm a bad actor.
I don't remember my lines.
The job goes to younger guys.
I'm not a leading man anymore.
They just want me for character roles.
The scene used to be a gas.
Now I'm gassed out.
Yeah baby, my Hollywood days are over.
But my mind is still a voyager.
It takes me to great heights.
Martinis, girls and fine cigars.
Beneath these L.A. lights.
I still have friends here, you know.
I must find a way to re-live all the magic,
Of imagined L.A. days,
of L.A. ways.
I get up off my bar stool.
No one says goodbye.
The party seems so blase now.
I've changed.
I don't know why.
Maybe I'll travel to simpler towns.
Like Boise, Idaho.
The glimmer there--
still comes from stars and snow.
It might be more honest.
My heart is very deep.
I take the leap.
I am still the voyager.