-on the morning after "Buzz" drove over the edge,

we find the tough guy laying on his back

above the covers on the narrow,

single bed in his room with the fingers

of his hands entwined behind his head;

an un-lit cigarette, pressed between his lips.

he stares at the ceiling fixture

recalling the movie "Rebel Without a Cause"
he'd seen the night before, as early

rock n’ roll's tuned-in at high volume

on the radio, tabled at bedside.

the filter-tip of his cold cigarette

is moved with the aid of an adroit

tongue to be clenched between his teeth.

this intriguing procedure is instinctive, as

the cigarette wags up and down

keeping time to the music's beat, where

the stubble of his "german beezer"

gives-way to daydreams of a cream-oiled wave

sweeping back toward his neck, where

the "duck’s-ass" Buzz combed deliberately,

would end in a spike, its testament of youthful rebellion.

the bones of his young ribs push outward
from beneath the glazed, veil of his skin

and for as long as he maintains his tenacity,

he ignores the calls of his mother to "go wash-up"!

soon, he'll stash last night's nabbed cigarette
for daydreams yet to come, and enter the kitchen
as family closes-in around the table, where

early rock n’ roll evaporates into the slow, pedantic 

drawl of "Today" from the television squatting in the parlor.

1955 / 2017