The Wild Man at His End

The Wild Man at His End

“Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.”

Dylan Thomas

The wild man pulls the sun around its course

This old world is the oyster of his will

He rides his Harley like a bucking horse

At breaking bad there is no better resource

Spends his money at the local meth mill.  

The wild man pulls the sun around its course

Old Lady at his back he is the source

Flaming down Main Street, becomes a fire drill

He rides his Harley like a bucking horse

Five times for him the male half of divorce

He knows the heat of passion and the chill

The wild man pulls the sun around its course

Ignoring promises, a tour de force

Others bear the grief while he mounts the thrill

He rides his Harley like a bucking horse

But Dylan, late at night he feels remorse

He will not willingly climb death’s dark hill

The wild man pulls the sun around its course

He rides his Harley like a bucking horse