For Billy Wayne

There’s something very comforting 

About a plain dinner

Something simple

Nothing fussy or faddish

Pasta and sauce

Romaine and carrots with vinegar and oil

Lots of black pepper

My nightly glass of  brine’y’ white wine

To wash it all down

I used to only drink red

It was my thing

I only drank red and whiskey and Scotch

The occasional tequila

If it was a party

Then I found love

Real love

The kind you think you’ll never find

I had children

 I changed

Or rather

My life changed around me

And I followed suit

Gave up the ghost

Grew into my glass of white

Moved and restarted and let go

I live in a city that's changing

My new hometown

That I finally made friends with

After we got real drunk at Edgefield

We all want to say she’s the same

We all want to say that deep down

She still has heart

But the truth is

For whatever part is flashy and new

Part of her 

Is expiring 

Some parts are already gone forever 

Like my friend

My friend that died

Not too long ago

He was a Nashville fixture

He seemed in his way 

To be a perfect execution of the city via personhood 

He was kind of Crumugeony

But when you got him in your corner

He gave the best hugs

He failed at some things

He succeeded at some others

He was hungover a lot

He could be hysterical and hurtful and harmonious

All in a matter of minutes

He was funny and endearing and dark

If he didn’t like you

You knew pretty immediately 

I saw it happen once or twice

I didn't know him as long as some others

But 

He always made a point to speak to me

If not only because I “ruined” his best friend

But because I played Pantera that time at Red Door

When he came to our house after the birth of our first daughter

He was so gentle and kind

Like he had found something suddenly 

Something he had forgotten he lost

They called him the Mayor of Eastside

Authentic and a little tortured

But still 

He didn’t give a damn

or a fuck 

or a shit

But then

He kinda did

He died alone

On a couch

In a way that seemed 

At least mildly preventable

With a small amount of effort he might still be with us

These are hard words to write 

But it seems only fitting to his memory

To be painfully honest 

When we heard the news it was crushing

Crushing and cold

Like a hammer to the face

But sadly 

Not so unexpected

And yet

As the reality sunk in

It was beyond belief

This person who was so defiant

So determined 

This person would always be around

Grimacing a bit and swearing about the hipsters and the yuppies

Shooting a wry grin at you when you walked into the bar

Making all the hysterical jokes

Surprisingly soft

And suddenly illuminating

But he’s gone

Overtaken

His “house” was torn down 

The rent raised too high

So to speak

Another irreplaceable structure

Vacates the skyline

Another piece of the cities soul

Snapped out like a candle

While the headlights grow thick

I can’t help but think

As I sit here

Eating pasta and sauce

And sipping my cup

That Billy Wayne mirrored in so many ways

The city that loved him

A city of grit

Smoothed and worn and eventually erased

By the inevitable and unrelenting 

March of "Progress"

“Cheap rent” comes at a high cost

We have lost so many already 

Many who suddenly couldn’t afford the town they gave teeth to

The condominiums replace the bungalows

The G wagons replace the band vans

And the Mayor of Eastside

Passes away 

For want of water

Like our nearly overrun metropolis 

Thirsting for something real

There will never be

Another like him

That's the thing about authenticity 

You can buy the shirt

But it never looks good on you

Unless you're a real mother fucker

So what can we learn

What can we do with the memory of our dear friend

Where do we put our sorrow

We can refuse to assimilate I suppose

We can make sure those around us 

That need water

Get it

We can fight a little harder 

For the skyline we love

Or maybe

We just have to move on

Adapt 

Leave the skyline to it’s own devices

Move aside for the bankers and the trust funds

Learn  to appreciate 

A drink with a little less bite

While we remember with some fondness

And some pain

The days we reveled in Whiskey