Leaving dusty footprints on Texan soil,
a drifting unemployed taxi driver.
Stumbling through nights of doubt,
towards seedy lighthouses that shone brightest.
He scratched her name on napkins, in margins,
on the fogged glass of Greyhounds—
rehearsing a love that would never be more
than a monologue for his mirrors.
Believing the act would be a sentence,
six shots, one ricocheted love letter,
so that on his arrival,
history might remember him
as something other than a ghost.
Shared with dVerse Poetics: Pilgrimage and reflecting on the story of John Hinckley Jr.
Just finished reading a bit of his wiki entry. A very disturbed young man that didn’t get the (inpatient) treatment he needed. He made diligent effort and did a lot of damage. I’m sure his victims remember him as more than a ghost.
Very good writing, Shaun. May I ask you why you chose to write about him?
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I’m not sure why I picked him but I knew that I didn’t want to write about myself this time. It’s possible I read something this morning that mentioned Reagan and then wondered where Hinckley came from and if there was any sort of journey involved, and eventually ended up with this poem.
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such is the path of poets, way leading on to way (frost ref)
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This is an excellent poem. The system fails people and they in turn fail society.
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Thanks so much Robbie 🙏
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Bravo, Shaun. Interesting journey
Thanks for dropping by my blog
much love
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You really convey his desperation and isolation in this short poem. Masterful writing.
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Thanks pc 🙏
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A wonderfully complete and atmospheric story – Jae
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Thanks Jae 🙏
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A striking piece Shaun – painting a tragic picture of a man who feels so invisible that he is willing to commit a catastrophic act just to leave a dent in the world 🙌
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Thank you Ange 🙏
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Interesting that he was released in 2016 and is now leading a quiet life. You’ve painted this lonely and disturbed life very well here. Words like “drifting”, “stumbling”, “seedy”, and the “scratching” her name on napkins, foggy Greyhound windows etc….just the idea of the Greyhound buses taking him wandering. Well written journey of a troubled soul.
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I think I knew in the back of my mind that he had been quietly released. I guess he is still on his journey and he sure has one hell of a story to tell!
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I had to look him up – being a Brit! What a sad man.
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I do remember the shooting but when you reminded me it is even more interesting to know that he is now a free man… wonder what Jodie thought about coming into the news like that.
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I love that you chose to “journey” in this direction! Perfectly worded, history resurrected, a great write.
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An interesting poem, Shaun. Physical distance does turn us into ghosts it seems. I really liked this line:
rehearsing a love that would never be more
than a monologue for his mirrors.
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