Christian, king of outlaws, American at heart, revolutionary harbinger, prototype Romantic hero, martyr to rugged individualism and passionate action
Mr. Christian, your passage is cloudy as Jesus, who nailed you to your cross? The wind of Adamastor? Drink or an island? Frat boys on party? Mutineers as 18th Century fratters in tatters
Writ into mythology, penned in grog, larger than life become, exploit of thyself or those around you shall remember you best, as charisma and history will attest, as they always do, in the sunlight of dawn, after sleepless nights
Stories owed not in the least to tongues of passion, redoubts of opportunity, feed the belly and expunge the soul, through the mouth, throaty bellow of youth, might memory’s day dawn we can change? Satisfy the night
Some gain happy entrance to hell, Otaheite as sports bar, pick up some chicks, are you my taio, pre-law? Rigging and mast or college town party bus, salty braggarts, all
Blind fiddlers sit and cry, while designated drivers take home the bait. Tell us, blind fiddler, what do you know, aggrieved as such redthroated bar patrons, bastards most
This is a dubcrit, a cartography of discovery, equal parts criticism, review, portrait, rhapsody, poetry, mashup, hot mix and satire.
R.L. Buss has written five books, including Life Between Cigarettes and Suspicion of Indifference, and his fiction, poetry, essays, photos and commentary have appeared in publications such as San Diego City Beat, Happy, Impact Press, San Diego Free Press and the museum of americana.