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A poem resurrecting the life of the great Rolling Stones guitarist Brian Jones. |
Why did you fade away? You had everything. Absolutely everything. You were a rambunctious young man in grade school. You were against any and all control. You received a guitar for your seventeenth birthday. You ran off to Scandinavia. You busked in the streets for money and scraps of food from generous passerby. You spent most of your money on cigarettes. You returned home from your life on the streets. You had impregnated your sixteen year-old girlfriend. Your girl's name was Valerie. You played at clubs. You were popular at Alexis Korner's club, where you began to master the slide guitar. You got better and better. You went to a concert one night. You met a woman named Angeline. She was newly married. You put a baby in her stomach after one meager night at Wooden Bridge Hotel. You were accepted to Cheltenham Art College. You were then denied, for someone had written to the school, calling you an 'irresponsible drifter'. You had a baby with Patricia Andrews. You lived with Pat and little Julian. You sold your record collection for flowers and baby clothes. Parenting life quickly grew insanely boring for you. You moved to London. You met two kind men named Keith Richards and Mick Jagger. You three decided to start an R&B band. You were best friends. You created the name 'Rolling Stones' while on the phone with a venue owner. He asked the name of your band. A Muddy Waters record was lying on the floor beside you. On the song list was 'Rolling Stone'. You and your new band skyrocketed. You quickly became the most popular band in England. Then, you took over the United States. Instead of youth and lust for life, drugs began controlling you. Your fellow guitarist, Keith Richards, stole your girlfriend of two years. This broke your heart. You soon got arrested for possession of marijuana. You were set free. There you went again. You were arrested a second time for the same charge. The judge said, "For goodness sake, don't get in trouble again or it really will be serious." Then, you died. July third, 1969. You were complaining about the heat. You went for a quick swim that turned out to be the longest swim ever known to man. But that's okay, Brian. Your gift will always be on this little green planet. Your music will forever be dripping out of happy homes and singing speakers. |