John Dorsey Is Your Woody Guthrie; Did You Know That?

Philadelphia Poem for David Snellbaker

You were the first real friend I ever made here

Telling me about your days with a Mexican religious cult

Where they tried to brainwash that man

right out of your hair.

You said, “They’d have to whitewash the streets with blood”

to make you feel clean again.

Bridget

You sang songs by Woody Guthrie

Not the originals

But covers by the Counting Crows

Placed your heart in a locket

Hidden under a pillow

On the third floor of a West Toledo mental ward.

You never learned how to dance

Just painted flowers on your toes

when it came time to bloom.

Drunk John

gave me $7 and a cigar snip

for my 25th birthday

the morning his girlfriend

kicked him out

of their spruce street apartment.

the year before

i’d watched as she passed him

love notes in hindi

across the bar

while he listened

to iggy pop

on the jukebox

as it rained outside.

i could swear he was crying  

when he sang happy birthday

under the busted street light.

John Dorsey is the author of several collections of poetry, including “Teaching the Dead to Sing: The Outlaw’s Prayer” (Rose of Sharon Press, 2006), “Sodomy is a City in New Jersey” (American Mettle Books, 2010), “Tombstone Factory” (Epic Rites Press, 2013), and most recently, “Natural Selection: Early Poems” (Kilmog Press, 2014). His work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. He may be reached at archerevans@yahoo.com