son of Dean Moriarty…

did you know your father…

heard stories…just stories…

stories…

yeah…tall tales that sounded too bizzarre to be real…like people made ’em up or somethin’…myths ’bout this man who wandered ’round from town to town ‘cross America…wasn’t a single state that he hadn’t planted a seed in…women loved him…that included Alaska and Hawaii…somehow he managed to get over there to those parts as well…don’t know how he did it…heard he was always broke…worked these strange odd jobs like…handin’ out flyers at shopping malls dressed as a big red dog…sellin’ tickets to tourists to ride double decker busses in Time Square…moppin’ up floors in adult theaters…anything to make a buck…wasn’t lazy…just lacked responsibility…

but…you didn’t spend any time with him…

nope…never’ round…mom used to talk ’bout him…talked ’bout how his big hands were so smooth…talked ’bout how this cowboy wooed her away from any kind of common sense…she fell for him hard…said she saw potential in him…some kinda magic he had on her…

how long were they together…

their love affair didn’t last too long…in fact…it was less than twenty-four hours…a one night stand I guess you’d call it…seduced her in the back of an old Chevy…bottle of wine and a broken condom…

and he never settled down…

couldn’t…he was a roust-about…a nomad… it was in his blood…his pop was Dean Moriarty you know…just drifted along…stealin’ cars like the old man did…sleepin’ with women two at a time…livin’ this bohemian life…

how’d you find out ’bout him…

wasn’t til much later…my momma knew a friend who knew a friend that was connected to his whereabouts…stayed in contact with him…she’d write him letters…never responded except for one long one where he spelled it out for her…he told her ’bout all the jobs he’d had and the criss-crossin of America he’d done…said he was down on his luck and could she send money to help him out a little…wasn’t quite flush…was never quite flush…

did she do it…

what…

send him money…

she did…she told me she had no choice…was compelled to…although they’d only spent one night together…she was deeply in love with him…couldn’t get him out of her mind…but she never begged him to come home…she knew what he was…called him a romantic…I say he was just a bum…a high falutin’ bum…God knows how many of his kids are spread out ‘cross this land of our’s…God knows how many women are heart broken…

so…he was Dean Moriarty’s son…

yep…he was…

Published by: dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

Leave a comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s