Sam Ashley appears again and again 
Reminder of death, not death
In the little square 
In the upper corner of my 
Phone’s Home Screen
A picture of the three of us
In the desert, he often 
Would lay in trance
Under a black tarp 
Beneath a Juniper Tree
Trying to make the luck in 
Las Vegas change
Or was it the one at Fort Point
Below the Golden Gate this time?
Right where Vertigo’s Madeleine 
Threw herself into the sea
In a fictional fit of tortured memory 
Decades before 
“Every Heaven is the Best Heaven”
Playing two Bass Drums
with his feet
Soft mallets at the end of
His extended arms
Playing cymbals, 
He let the spirits take over
And play the soothing waves of 
Lost sonic semaphores from beyond 
For hours
No longer thinking of 
Fake espionage shots
As he pretended to be a jungle spy
Of Peruvian airfields 
Or the fate of his guide
At the hands of the Federales 
He would turn to me as I slept.
“You need a new Dreamtime sugar camera” 
Then fade away 
As our old dog wakes me
To be let out into the predawn fog

SGL Brunswick,ME May 21, 2023

5/21/2023