by Larry Brody
NOTE FROM LB:
An early night of freedom for the Navajo Dog and me after I left L.A. I had never understood the value of having a knowing, loving – albeit impatient as hell teacher – till then.
The Navajo Dog Reflects On Being Free
When Kid Hollywood made his escape from the
Glitz and the glam and the pain
He took the I-Forty and only looked
Back to see if anyone was gaining.
He drove like an Allison or a Petty,
And kept his hands and his heart on the wheel.
In the car with him were some clothes,
And his drums and his cymbals,
And the more precious of his books,
Also a few videotapes of shows he had
Written that he had always intended to see.
The I-Forty runs where Route Sixty-Six did,
But while it’s not as wild, every driver is
More free. By the time Kid Hollywood
Reached Kingman, he had a real feeling
That he’d left the Hollywood hawks behind.
Gliding over the Interstate, though, was
Another hawk, and as Kid Hollywood watched
It swooped down at a smaller bird, a nifty
Meal as is nature’s way.
But the bird escaped, and flew off, and the
Hawk circled, then looked for new prey.
Kid Hollywood, who was looking for portents
And visions anyway, now that he’d found
They were possible again, decided this was a
Sign. He felt like the smaller bird,
Like prey that had successfully escaped.
The next day, just outside Gallup, Kid
Hollywood saw the same thing happen
Once more. Again, a lone hawk swooped
For its supper, and, again, dinner managed
To fly away. Now Kid Hollywood whooped
With the laughter of the newly free,
Secure in this omen of his success.
Some nights later, sitting by a fire beside the
Pecos River with the Navajo Dog,
The two of them shivering
From the desert cold, Kid Hollywood told his friend
This story. The Navajo Dog laughed
A much different laugh than the
Kid had, then dashed away along the riverbank.
When she returned later, while the Kid was
Stirring the ashes of the fire, she carried
A dead hawk with a metal identification band
On its leg. Nothing had yet fed on the bird,
Not even the Navajo Dog, but beneath the feathers
It was only skin and bones.
“Here is the omen you need,”
She said, and Kid Hollywood realized
That the hawk had starved to death.
“One of the major drawbacks,” the Navajo Dog pointed out
As she crunched down on the bones,
“Of being truly free.”
Larry Brody is the head dood at TVWriter™. He is posting at least one poem a week here at TVWriter™ because, as the Navajo Dog herself once pointed out, “Art has to be free. If you create it for money, you lose your vision, and yourself.” She said it shorter, though, with just a snort.