Friday, March 16, 2012


he was as crusty as an iron fence
this old biker
who fought a war in vietnam
had two children
drank griesedieck bros. beer from st. louis
and loved that cardinals ball club
he wrote novels and poetry
managed some big-time record stores
road his harley with some rugged gangs
but had a heart as big as the montana sky
my dear friend, frank
hippie frank
santa claus with a club patch
a trailer
and southern roots
who loved this man
'cause he called me brother
and i went to his memorial service tonight
to send him on his way
to purple mountains
and raging highways
and star clustered skies
and pure, universal love
and that's where he belongs
dear frank wright.

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