22nd November 1963

22nd November 1963.

32° 46′ 58″ N, 96° 48′ 14″ W
Dallas, Texas
Left onto Elm Street from Houston,
on the dressmaker
Zapruder’s 8mm film,
waving to the crowds
Kennedy, wearing a blue-grey
double-buttoned suit,
with a navy tie, suddenly
clutches his
throat with his fists.
As his wife grips him
there are only
milliseconds left
until the side of his temple
will explode and she will
crawl, in retrieval,
across the back of that
Midnight Blue 1961 Lincoln.

34° 3′ 0″ N, 118° 15′ 0″ W
Los Angeles, California
Aldous Huxley voiceless
and dying in the morning,
cancer of the throat,
requests to his wife
on a large sheet of paper,
“LSD-try
it-intramuscular
-100 mmg.”

54° 59′ 44.88″ N, 7° 18′ 26.64″ W
In Derry, my
grandfather, more
mystery than real to me,
framed in the only
photo I know
a rugged young
Elvis profile, wearing
a military beret at an angle,
father of eight children,
is drowning.

It’s just
another
Friday.

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