He chased the image of bottle of gin throughout the Colorado mountains

he remembered it
the dark evening air
the melting breeze
condensing the smell of fresh roses and moist grass on his face

the warm ambient air in his nostril
infiltrating his mental orafaces
those little mind opening
as he had coined the images
gazing at asmooth new mint quarter
rolling in a tilted turning advancing path
that
evening rested
evenings after a terrific struggle
up and down on its side
spinning turning
rebounding from stones set a century past on the on the shaky and meandering
terrace
waving wavering in a dim oscillation

until it stopped
as poised and
as posed
composed
as any of a the many young lovelies
unimportant loving lies
cold teasing tea
infested with lieing spys
inner sighs
an abandoned and meaningless treason
to their respectfull and ritual loving
in the hay where the quarter lay

He was certain was there
in shape form and body
had carresed her golden hair
with care
had swallowed it all
and as years had passed those warmest events in his struggling life

had confused her presence
with a bottle of gin
was on every table
pass his seeking look
since then

"bottle of gin
ole Evelyn
always today as yesterdays
cause me a grin"

he sang as he sought
and looked for her again
ole Evelyn
the best shaped bottle of gin his eyes could see
and all he could remember too
of some place he had been
in the grassy hills
with a bottle of gin
and some name began with an E.

Maybe he was asleep then
or married to Evelyn
didnt know where or when
but life sure is a daze
without ole Evelyn

He come to know
ask of kindly loving faces
in summer
in warm summer air with a face only he could remember
as the tall long end of bottle of gin

And where ever life was taking him
he was sure to have invested
his own plan
on renewing a foggy dream
to relive it again
in a fugue
with Evelyn

and his friends
he'd say
"what ever makes you go
even if its' not going"
or "its' all in the pursuit"
"strokes for every folks"
and sometimes owned only a bottle of
gin

and the memory of a fond caress
somewhere
some day
in a tantalizing mountain air
he didnt know if he really knew
as he lay in the shadows
around the town corners
and harsh angled squares
his only tangeable
companion
a bottle of gin
mattered in the face
of a sensual memory
melted together

in all the passing
and occupied seconds
turn years or hours
no different turn the seasons
as his life had rolled
a quarter by

Beautiful Evelyn had stopped
an asked him
change a quarter
rye fetch a drink
for 'im
and was hurt on climbing the hill
rolled in the grass
an' lay a graze
May to May day
yearly undone
in the short climb
for a' favor a distressed
lady
had left 'im lying yearly
in a daze
on the floor
of a very simple maze
he not a notion or idea
of a way to freedom

From his meeting with Evelyn

"Bottle of Gin"
" a beautiful grin"
"When are you coming back again"
"My beautiful Evelyn"
her quarter change always agrasp within his hand"

As his senseless mind
and unthorough thought
blindness in his eyes never through

In his life's
uncomprised mental
Detour


Marvin Eli kirsh